Return of the Fifteen Minutes
by Al Kristopher
Summary: Are you a fan of underdeveloped characters? Do you root for those who have almost no star time? Want to find out more about the ambiguous Stars? This story is dedicated to all the unknown characters of Suikoden 2!
1. Chicks Dig Smart Guys: The Tale of Marlo...

Author's note: Riding on the success of "Fifteen Minutes" is the _second_ installment of an epic three-part trilogy dedicated to the unknown and ambiguous characters of the Suikoden games. The first concentrated on Genso Suikoden characters; the second… well… concentrates on… uh… the… second game……… Yeah. Anyway, thank goodness for Richmond! Otherwise, I'd have to make everything up myself! As for my castle/army/hero, I'm going to have the hero named Riou. On a sillier note, both his castle and his army will be called "Stupid". So he's the leader of the Stupid Army, living in Stupid Castle. I'm so twisted!!

**__**

Return of the Fifteen Minutes

By Al Kristopher

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Chicks Dig Smart Guys: The Tale of Marlowe

The atmosphere of Stupid Castle was tranquil for only a few minutes. As the sun rose up in the sky, the hush of the day teetered on edge, and a certain scholarly man quietly stepped out of his room. He peeked around, making sure that nobody was looking, and breathed a sigh of relief. His happiness instantly faded as he saw a young lady wandering around, and his face paled as the girl screamed out.

"It's him!!!" Suddenly, dozens of screaming girls erupted out of nowhere, dashing towards the poor man madly. He screamed too, but in horror, and dashed down the hallway as fast as his legs could carry him. Flik and Viktor, who had seen him run, were nearly trampled by the crowds. They thankfully jumped out of the way, and gazed in wonder as the stampede of women chased after the poor guy.

"Well," sighed Flik, "here we go again!!"

Screaming out in horror, Marlowe used every fiber of his energy to evade the swarm of girls screaming after him. He had nearly gotten trampled by the maniacal females! Even if he had somehow escaped death underneath their boots, he would not survive long if they had caught him in their embrace. Luckily, though, he had long ago learned how to hide and wait for the stampede to pass.

As he caught his breath, poor Marlowe wondered why he of all people should be the target of these girls' affections. It was true that smart men landed the occasional female, but he was weak and scrawny and not that attractive. He was also incredibly meek, and shy, and usually quiet, and definitely not out of shape, so why was he being pursued so?

It was not as if Marlowe feared girls--he had wanted a significant other in his life for some time now, but not like this! Those crazed girls were far too out of control to be with! They would smother and swoon and flaunt him like a prize trophy, leaving him to moan and wail as they dragged him around. No, he preferred a much slower relationship, one filled with things other than infatuated romance. Unfortunately, the girls of Stupid Castle saw things differently.

After narrowly escaping the advances of Ayda, Marlowe decided that it would be best for him to run off to a more public area, where some of the men present could take the ladies off his hands. He made his way to the dojo, which surprised several onlookers as Marlowe would normally never set foot in the place.

No sooner had he burst into the training area, did Marlowe instantly regret it. Standing there, wearing a drool-inducing red dress and a few pretty jewels, was the Toran Republic General Valeria. She smiled seductively as she saw the young man enter the dojo--the frighteningly-_empty_ dojo--and took several steps towards him.

"Hey," she said in her usual creamy voice. "Did you come all this way to see me?" Marlowe whined out in misery, and slowly stepped away from the considerably-older woman. He had no intention of starting anything with Valeria, not even a conversation (at the moment), and so wanted to leave before she…… Well, he didn't want to think about it.

Suddenly, as poor Marlowe was escaping Valeria's eye, he bumped into Anita, who had been standing in the door. She was wearing a very beautiful blue dress, and also had jewels on. She giggled softly as he collided with her, and even managed to wrap her arms around his stomach.

"Hey there," she whispered softly. "You sure do have good taste."

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!"

"Hey!" shouted Valeria, whose face was quickly matching the color of her dress. "Get away from him! He's mine! I saw him first!"

"Too bad, Val!" cackled Anita, sticking her tongue out. "Marlowe obviously prefers me!"

"He does not!" screamed Valeria, yanking on Marlowe's arms. "He prefers _me!_"

"ME!!" shouted Anita, pulling on his arm.

"ME!!" shouted Valeria, pulling on his other arm. Marlowe whined out in pain as the two sword masters yanked on him, but try as he might, he couldn't break free.

"Ahhhhh, stop it!!!" he yelled. He could feel his arms slowly ripping out of their sockets as the two rivals fought over him, but like the genius he was, he soon formulated a plan.

"Look!" he shouted suddenly. "It's Camus and Miklotov, and they're training together in the hot sun!"

"What, where?!" shrieked the women, instantly dropping the poor boy. Marlowe fell to the floor, both dizzy and still in a lot of pain, and somehow managed to crawl away from his would-be suitors. If he had learned anything from staying at Stupid Castle, he had learned that both women had humongous crushes on the knights, and would ignore him if given the chance.

After running past the barracks, Marlowe took a breather at Huan's clinic. The good doctor thankfully offered shelter from Marlowe's stalkers, but couldn't help the laugh that came out of his mouth. Marlowe gave him a bitter look, but it was better to be laughed at here than being chased around by crazy girls out there.

After half an hour of hiding out, Marlowe caught his breath, thanked Huan for protecting him, and left the clinic in search of a better place to hide. He had been working on a biography of the young Riou, and was just in the middle of the second chapter ("Riou is adopted by Genkaku"), so he couldn't be disturbed. However, for some odd reason, nearly all the women in Stupid Castle seemed recklessly infatuated with him, and would often do very crazy things to be around him.

Making his way into the bar, Marlowe suddenly became dreadfully afraid again as Lo Wen, an acquaintance of his, gave him a sly look. Slowly, keeping a weak smile on the entire time, Marlowe sidled against the wall and crept past the lewd Lo. She winked at him, grinned, and mischievously parted her robe slightly, exposing just a whisker more of her chest. This caused poor Marlowe to finally run outside in a sprint, leaving the bandit to laugh out loud at the boy's antics.

After sprinting out of the bar, he figured that he was in the clear for the moment, and made his way towards the small market. A day of shopping always relaxed him, and soon his advanced mind became absent as he walked. Marlowe was not paying a bit of attention where he was going, which sealed his doom as he walked into the Rune shop.

"Tee-hee-hee!" came an erotic voice. Marlowe snapped out of his absentminded state, and his face became as pale as the exotic woman before him. Leaning forward against her counter, exposing much more than the beautiful pendant she wore, was the mysterious Rune mistress Jeane, looking about as inviting as icy water in the desert. She purred slyly, smiled, and silently beckoned Marlowe close with her finger. He fiercely shook his head no.

"Ohh, what's the matter, milord?" pouted Jeane. "Don't you like my company?" Marlowe's pale face turned absolutely white as he slowly backed away from her. He knew that any other man in his position would have made advancements already, but by some miracle, he was able to escape before Jeane could turn on the pheromones full blast. As he backed out of the shop, Marlowe accidentally stepped into the Runic Scroll booth…

"Ah, welcome!" sang Raura as Marlowe backed into her room. "And what can I do for you, handsome?" Marlowe's pale face had lightened considerably, and for a moment he thought that Raura would only conduct business. His assumptions failed him miserably, and it only took the gorgeous Rune wizard a few seconds to walk to his side.

"(Do you want me to show you how I make Runic Scrolls?)" she whispered softly. Marlowe nearly swallowed his Adam's apple in fear, managed a polite No, and skittered out of the room before Raura could turn on her own charm. The classy lady smiled softly as she saw him leave, and shrugged in defeat.

"Oh well," she sighed to herself. "I can always go flirt with Jess."

And that's exactly what she did.

Marlowe wheezed out a sigh of relief as he escaped the mall. He had almost forgotten the reason why he was there in the first place (to buy some ink), but thankfully remembered. Gordon was, as always, a great conversationalist, and it was with the experienced trader where Marlowe revealed his thoughts. The older man listened to everything, giving tips and pointers from time to time, or smoking on a pipe on occasion. Marlowe was a "fortunate man", according to nearly every single other male in the Castle, but he had other opinions.

Marlowe spent half an hour in the trade house, then left when he felt everything had calmed down outside. That showed how little he knew; no sooner was he out than did Lorelai approach him, although thankfully she wasn't one of the many who were infatuated with him.

"Marlowe!" she hissed, grabbing him firmly. "I need your help! Have you ever read anything about the Sindar?"

"Well, I--"

"Good!" exclaimed the adventurer, smiling victoriously before she could hear him out. "That rotten Killey's trying to get Gordon and Emilia on his side, and I was wondering if you'd like to partner up with me and Alex for awhile." Marlowe, who reasoned that a woman like Lorelai had a completely different idea of "partnership" than most of the other girls, paused for a bit to consider her deal.

"Well…"

"Of course, if you're too busy…" She paused, smiled, and slowly began to take off her mantle and outer vest, leaving Marlowe and a few other scattered wanderers to stare at her creamy-yellow shirt. He swallowed nervously as Lorelai's businesslike face grew gentle and soft, and he nearly screamed as he suddenly realized what she had in mind.

"I… I…"

"Oh, there's no need to be afraid," cooed the traveler gently. She took off her gloves, stroking his face with her delicate hands. "I'll be very, very gentle with you…" The dam broke--

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"

--and Marlowe zoomed away from Lorelai as fast as his feet permitted. After the dust settled, she cocked her head in confusion, scratched it, and shrugged. Lorelai had to find another volunteer fast, or else all that precious treasure would have been lost. Heaven forbid!

Laying flat on the ground and taking several gulps of sweet, sweet air, Marlowe stared at the sky and tried to reason things out. He was being watched over by Eilie, one of the few young ladies who was not madly "in love" with him, and couldn't have been more grateful for her kindness if he wanted to. She merely shook her head as she saw the young man lie there, wheezing like a dog, and decided to sit down and chat with him.

"You know," she began, "a lot of guys would love to be in your position." He continued wheezing, not giving any response to a statement that never needed one in the first place. Eilie managed a lopsided smile, and began to play aimlessly with her knife as she continued.

"One day, you may regret running away from those girls," she warned him. Marlowe swallowed several more gulps of air, sat up, and leaned against a barrel. He gazed at Eilie, mentally wondering whether she ever took her own advice.

"I don't think so," he replied. "I mean, it's crazy the way they chase me! I can't get a single hour for myself! I have to hire guards to watch over my room so I'm not invaded at night!" Eilie smiled and even laughed a little, but Marlowe's bitter and tired look sobered her up.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I guess some guys have all the luck, though I'd never peg you as a ladies' man, no offense."

"Neither would I," he agreed. "I'm just a quiet, average guy whose only strength lies in writing and reading. I guess girls like smart guys, but… this is just plain silly!!"

"Yeah…" she said with an empty smile. The two friends ceased their conversation for awhile, content to rest and relax in the outdoor sun. Marlowe smiled gently as he watched Eilie sitting in the grass, her hands supporting her and her legs sprawled out. She was not drop-dead gorgeous like her sister, but she was definitely beautiful, and would have made any young man happy for the rest of their life. Marlowe was glad that her heart belonged only to Lord Riou, and that maybe the romance was a lost cause, but there certainly was no harm in hoping…

And then, the brief but peaceful moment faded away as Rina and Karen approached them, laughing and talking like they had known each other for years. Eilie smiled and waved at them, but Marlowe grew nervous. Both performers were very well-known for their flirtatious habits, and with his streak of bad luck, they would both definitely try to pull something off.

"Hey, sis," smiled Rina, her arm across Karen's shoulders. "What's up?"

"Just talkin' with Marlowe here," she pointed. Rina's cheery face suddenly grew very seductive, and she raised an eyebrow.

"_Really?_" she sang. Karen smiled shyly, and performed her best curtsy. If the young lady from Kuskus had always acted so polite and calm, then Marlowe would have had no problems in pursuing a relationship with her. But, with Karen, this was not the case. She suffered from a Jekyll/Hyde syndrome that left one side of her personality shy and quiet, and the other wild and sensual. When both women combined their skills, there was no man that could be left standing.

Marlowe screamed out as loud as he could, and ran from the twosome before they could sprinkle their charms. Both Rina and Karen stared back at the sprinting Marlowe, neither one of them aware of what had just really happened.

"…Uh… sis…?"

"Don't ask," sighed Eilie, holding her hand up. "It's… been a real long day for him."

Which was, of course, an understatement. Marlowe had escaped the advancements of two of the sexiest young women in all the Stupid Army, just barely. In fact, up until this point, he had evaded every single unwanted advancement thrown at him, which was actually incredible considering that he was not a good runner. Marlowe's quest for a love relationship was indeed one-sided; he really did want a girlfriend, but not one that would chase him so feverishly.

Marlowe encountered triple trouble when he ran into the bizarre trinity of Millie, Meg, and Nina. None of the three girls were quite right in the head, and though they were all rather young, they each knew that they "loved" Marlowe desperately, just like every other girl out there.

"He's mine!" shouted Meg, pulling on his arm.

"No, he's mine!" shouted Millie, pulling on the other.

"He's all mine!!" screamed Nina, clutching onto his legs. Marlowe let out a scream as three young girls smothered him with their affections, but thankfully, he knew just how to get out of each situation.

"Look!" he pointed suddenly. "It's Juppo!"

"Uncle Juppo, where?!" squealed Meg. Marlowe sighed as the crazy young Trickster released him, and focused his attention on the other two.

"Hey! Look! Bonaparte's doing a cute trick!"

"Awwww, where?!" squealed Millie. "Where, where, I wanna see!!!" The eccentric young girl released Marlowe and searched in vain for her pet, only to discover minutes later that he had been on her shoulder all along.

_Two down, one to go._

"Isn't that sir Flik over there?" said Marlowe, and that was all he needed to be free. With Nina and the other two girls finally out of the way, Marlowe made a beeline to the kitchen, where he hoped he would finally have some peace.

With Marlowe, peace was impossible. The kitchen was amazingly devoid of customers that day; not even Hai Yo was there, and he was always working. It appeared to be closed for the day, despite the fact that there would always be somebody hungry, so Marlowe took the emptiness well. He considered the abandoned kitchen a blessing--after all, if there weren't any people around, there would be no girls to make shameless advancements towards him. In other words, where there was not smoke, there was not fire.

His happiness faded slowly as he saw a tall warrior enter into the facility. This warrior was scantily-dressed, with a sword sheathed at her side and muscles bulging out of her body. She had wild, untamed hair, and her eyes had a sharp but empty look to them. Marlowe recognized her as Hanna, the mysterious and quiet wanderer from the Grasslands, and if he didn't know any better, Marlowe had suspected that she was there for _him._

As Hanna approached the meek young man, her edgy features faded and her rough complexion grew soft. Her stony face suddenly glowed with a warm radiation, and her dead eyes sparkled with a love that had not been unearthed in years. She smiled a surprisingly sweet smile, and leaned in close so she could see the young man better.

"Hello, Marlowe," she said in a sugary voice. Marlowe, however, was anything but sweet--he was aghast. His eyes were about the size of moons, and every square millimeter of his face was covered in sweat. His face was literally blue with fear; in other words, this had taken him completely by surprise. Hanna chuckled warmly at his reaction, and placed her rough hand on his face. The rough scent she gave off was amazingly hypnotic, and Marlowe felt himself grow stiff from so much attention.

"Don't worry," she said, gazing down at him (she was much taller than him, of course). "I'm going to go very gentle with you."

"M-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-miss Hanna!" muttered Marlowe. "Wh-wh-wh-wh-what the…"

"Ssh," she whispered gently. "Don't be nervous. Just relax. I'm actually quite gentle." By this time, Marlowe was ready to faint.

"But… but… you're ten years older than I am!" he insisted. Hanna grinned sweetly--which was something she had never done before, _in her life_--and even giggled.

"That doesn't matter!" she insisted. "In true love, age is nothing but a number!"

"But I… I… I…" Try as he might, Marlowe could not talk his way out of this one. Hanna had him backed up against the wall, and nothing save a miracle could have rescued him. Just then, as if the stars had decided to finally intervene, there came assistance in a most powerful form.

"Hanna! Just what do you think you're doing?!" called the voice. Marlowe breathed a brief sigh of relief as he saw the red-headed bodyguard Oulan emerge, and all his fears faded for the time as she grabbed Hanna by the arm and pulled the other woman away.

"Honestly, Hanna!" chastised the bodyguard. "I never expected anything like this outta you!" The slightly-older woman pouted, and gave her occasional-friend a pitiful stare.

"But… Oulan… It's… Marlowe…" As if that suddenly explained everything, Oulan released her grip, crossed her arms, and gazed at the young man emptily. Marlowe breathed a sigh of relief; Oulan was not one to suddenly throw herself at a man's feet. Besides, she was in love with Shu, or so Richmond said.

Suddenly, Oulan's face shifted from that of boredom to love. Her eyes brightened, her mouth curled up in a soft smile, and her cheeks grew rosy. Marlowe was now deathly afraid, for he suddenly remembered that Oulan had a soft spot for people who couldn't protect themselves, and he was the epitome of this requirement. She even let out a sigh, which made poor Marlowe freak out even more.

"…I… Oh…" murmured the bodyguard. Marlowe found it shocking to see how sensitive and gentle these two Amazons really were, and didn't know which was worse: Hanna's sudden romantic side, or Oulan's lovestruck feelings. It was true that they were both very strong and powerful women, and occasionally butch, but…… this was just plain weird!

Sensing Oulan's fawning, Hanna quickly reached forward and yanked poor Marlowe into a powerful embrace.

"Fat chance!" she spat. "I saw him first!" Oulan immediately snapped out of her dazed state when she heard _that_, and the wicked growl of a mother wolf returned to her as she yanked on Marlowe's other arm.

"He's mine now!" she screamed.

"Urrrhhh!! You have Shu!" spat Hanna.

"Well you… have Jude!" retorted Oulan. Marlowe literally screamed as he felt the powerful women tear him apart, and for the third time in the same day, he thought he would lose his arms.

"Ahhh, stop it!!!" he shouted. "You're gonna tear my arms off!!!!!" He screamed again, but the two warriors were not about to give up their prize so easily. Suddenly, to make bad matters worse, Nanami came bouncing into the room with a bouquet of flowers in her hand.

"Marlowe, where are you??" she sang. Both warriors took a brief glance away from their argument to see who was calling out, and let the poor man drop to the floor as they each balled up a fist. Nanami suddenly skidded to a halt as she saw Oulan and Hanna glare at her, and sensing that the three of them were after the exact same young man, she hastily hid the bouquet behind her back.

"Ahhh, hehe, hi!" she managed, trying her best to look sweet and innocent (poor Marlowe had been tossed to the floor, and was currently groaning in pain as his poor arms tried to heal). "…Uhhh… what's up?"

"Nanami," snarled Oulan sweetly, "just what do you plan on doing with those flowers?"

"Flowers?" blurted the chipper girl nervously. "Uhh, what flowers?"

"The ones you have behind your back," pointed Hanna darkly. Nanami grinned weakly, and tried to laugh her way out of yet another predicament.

"Oh, hahahahahahaha!! What, those? They're, umm, ahhhh…" She froze, unable to come up with a solution, and suddenly dashed past their guard. She knelt down to give Marlowe a tight hug, nearly turning the poor man's face blue in the process.

"Nooooo, he's mine!!!!" whined Nanami. Hanna and Oulan growled, and each one tried to pry one of the girl's arms away. While Marlowe remained unconscious, even _more_ of his would-be suitors arrived in the kitchen, each of them bearing gifts. One was Tomo, wielding a book she knew Marlowe would like, and the other was Wakaba, who had purchased some lifting weights. The girls might have had different views on the scholar's tastes, but they both claimed a piece of his heart.

"Lord Marlowe!" shouted Tomo. "It's me, Tomo! I have a present for you!"

"Hey, Marley!" shouted Wakaba. "C'mere! I got a _really_ nice gift for you!" The two girls, who had grown quite close since meeting, smiled and nodded at each other. They had agreed to share the scholar between themselves; poor Marlowe knew nothing about their scheme. Both Tomo and Wakaba skipped over to the still-recovering young man, and soon everybody began shouting at him at once.

"MINE, MINE!!!" screamed Nanami.

"Get away!" barked Oulan.

"He's mine!" shouted Hanna.

"Lord Marlowe, wake up!" begged Tomo.

"Kiyah! Let's have some fun!" insisted Wakaba. Being dragged around by five maniacal women all at once was a horrifying experience, and the poor guy could do nothing but wail as he felt himself being quartered. Suddenly, a familiar zapping sound could be heard, and from out of nowhere came Viki, the adorable but air-headed young blink mage.

"Huh, what?" she blurted. "Where am I? Wasn't there a squirrel around here somewhere?" Marlowe, suddenly waking up and seeing his window of opportunity, shouted out for Viki to help him--which meant that he must have been _extremely_ desperate.

"Viki, help me!" he shouted. "I'll do anything!!!!" Viki, always one to help other people, nodded her head and successfully teleported both herself and Marlowe away from the maniacal women. With the object of their affections now gone, all five women collapsed in a painful yet hilarious pile, and spent most of the day quarreling or patching up wounds.

Viki and Marlowe appeared back in the Grand Hall, right next to the blinking mirror. She smiled in success, and even gave Marlowe a hug.

"I did it!" she squealed. "I finally pulled off a perfect teleportation!"

"…That's great!" said the scholar, trying to sound as supportive as he could. He returned the hug, but released it when he heard Viki giggling. "What?" he asked. "What is it?"

"You said that you'd do anything for me, right?" she pointed. Marlowe's happy face grew dark suddenly, and he sighed as he sunk his head.

"Yes…"

"Awesome!" smiled the girl. "I want you to go out on a date with me!"

"(Just great…)" grumbled the boy weakly. Even if he _wanted_ the girls to chase him day and night, going out on a date with Viki was one of the very last things that any sane man should have done. It wasn't like she was mean or abusive or even unattractive--quite the opposite, actually. Her eccentricity, however, outshined everyone else's in the entire castle, and although she was the sweetest thing on two legs, she had the attention span of a two year-old.

"…Okay," said Marlowe with a defeated smile. "I guess I can go on a date with you…"

"Awesome!" exclaimed Viki. "When should we have it?"

"I dunno, I'm kinda busy," he said. "How about, uuhh, next month?"

"Sure!" squealed Viki, obviously unaware of his ploy. Marlowe knew that, within the span of a month, Viki would have long ago forgotten about the date (he could have set it for the next day and she would have forgotten, but better to be safe than sorry). Besides, Shu explained that the war could be drawing to a close by the next month, which meant that in any case, their engagement would be null and void.

"Right, well, I'll be looking forward to it," said Marlowe. No answer. He blinked his eyes in confusion, and gazed at Viki. Her eyes were glassy, and her mouth was hanging open a little. Marlowe sighed as he realized that she was in her own little world again, and shook her gently.

"Huh? Huh? What? What's going on?" blurted the mage. Marlowe smiled and told her where she was, and she put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, wow!" she gasped. "I don't remember coming here! What happened?"

"You must have done a perfect teleportation!" explained the scholar happily. He was now in the clear; Viki's brain had been away in another world, and now she couldn't even remember how she got there, let alone the date. Marlowe stayed behind just long enough to make sure she was okay--after all, he was a caring and compassionate young man--and left his "friend" behind to follow other pursuits.

Talking with Emilia always soothed Marlowe's mind. She was very much like him: quiet, thoughtful, reliable, and very intelligent. And she wasn't infatuated with him!! …at least, he didn't think she was…

"…and I have no idea why they're after me! I guess I'm kinda cute, and I'm nice and all, and yeah I'm smart, but gosh…! I don't know why every girl out there wants to chase after me! It's like the entire world is in love with me, and I don't like it one bit! I know I should consider myself a lucky guy, but come on! I don't want all these girls chasing after me!"

"Hmm…" murmured Emilia to herself. "I guess it is kind of terrible, but don't worry, okay? I'm sure that amidst the sea of girls that chase you around so much, you'll find one that's just right for you!" She smiled prettily, and he returned it.

"Thanks, Miss Emilia," he sighed. "…I guess you're right. Although I'm sure that the girl I'm looking for isn't going to chase me around!"

"Hmm…" Emilia sighed, and blushed just slightly as she continued to stare at Marlowe. He gazed back at her, looked straight into her dreamy eyes… and yelped.

"D'gaaaahh!!!" he yelled. "Miss Emilia!!! _Not you too!!_" Emilia suddenly snapped to attention, blushed even more, and covered her face with her hands.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I'm… so… sorry! It's just that… just that……… I get so lonely sometimes, and I've been wanting the company of a nice young gentleman for so long! I'm still a little young, but I'm pushing thirty. I'm not getting any younger, and… and… I… so desperately crave for the attention of another…" Marlowe slowly sighed, and apologized for his insensitive actions. He may have not wanted the girls that populated Stupid Castle to be so outgoing and flirtatious, but he also didn't consider the fact that there might be one out there that really liked him.

"…Miss Emilia… I'm sorry…"

"No, it's all right," sighed the librarian, shaking her head slowly. "It's okay. I shouldn't be doing that. You're too young for me, no offense. I… guess I'm just lonely, that's all…"

"Well, I can keep ya company!" came an all-too familiar voice out of nowhere. Both Marlowe and Emilia craned their heads to see who it was, and groaned as Richmond emerged from the darkness. He grinned, his cigarette clenched between his teeth, and flipped a coin perfectly. This private eye was the very last person that Marlowe wanted to see--but not Emilia.

"I'm desperate enough to accept," sighed the librarian. The scruffy detective grinned again, but his focus was elsewhere. He instantly whipped out an infamous set of paper and pencil, and stared hard at Marlowe.

"Okay, scholar-boy!" he stated. "You know the drill! What's your sign? What's your favorite color? What kind of girl do you like!"

"Aaaaccckkk, stay away from me, Richmond!!!" roared Marlowe. Richmond paid him no heed. The detective was even worse than the other girls; at least they slept from time to time. Richmond had been tailing him for days on end, sometimes even at night, and would constantly interrogate him for any new tidbits.

"Not a chance, skinny!" grinned the P.I. "I'm gettin' paid by a whole lot of pretty girls, and I wanna give them their money's worth! So tell me, what kinda food do you like! Do you play any games? What's your favorite book? When were you born? Why--" Suddenly, Richmond burped out in surprise, and began wriggling madly as Emilia dove in to save Marlowe. She held the investigator in a pincer lock, and despite her lack of strength, she held him just long enough for the boy to escape.

"Go, Marlowe!" shouted the woman. "Leave now!"

"Hey, lemme go! L'eggo'a me! L'eggo!" Marlowe grinned with relief, and promised to pay Emilia back someday for her kindness as he retreated from his worst adversary.

After narrowly escaping the clutches of the nosy Richmond, Marlowe thought that he was finally out of the woods for the day. After barely avoiding an encounter with Sierra, he snuck into the main castle and stealthily darted around until he was back in his room. He had somehow avoided detection up to this point; now he could actually rest!

…In theory. Waiting for him in his room was another girl, but for perhaps the first time since he was around Eilie, the young scholar did not burst out in screams. The girl sitting on his bed was the petite, shy, quiet, and delicate flower known as Annallee, and she smiled faintly as she saw Marlowe come in.

"Hello," she greeted politely, and the young man issued out a breath of relief. Here, there was no danger of being smothered by over affectionate women.

"Oh, uh, hi Annallee!" he greeted. She gave him her usual shy smile, and quietly asked him to sit next to her. Having nothing to fear, Marlowe joined her and asked what she wanted.

"…Well," she began slowly, "I was just noticing how terrible you've been treated in these past few days."

"Oh?"

"Yes," she said. "It really is sad to see so many women chase after you like a bunch of slobbering dogs. You'd think that _some_ of them would have a little more self-control!" He chuckled softly and agreed.

"Yeah… I don't know what their problem is, or why they're attracted to me! I mean, there are a whole lot of other young men in this castle, who are much more talented and attractive than I am. But me? I'm just a bookworm."

"Hm," hummed the vocalist softly. "…I guess I'm the same way. I'm just a quiet little girl who really can't do anything except sing."

"I'm sure you can do a whole lot of other stuff!" insisted Marlowe. Annallee blinked shyly.

"…R… really? Y, you mean it?"

"Yeah! I know it!" She smiled lightly, and scooted in a little closer.

"You know," she said bashfully, "I think I know why those girls were after you."

"Hm? Why's that?" She smiled.

"Because you're really nice, and you respect everybody, and you have such a kind heart…" Marlowe smiled weakly, and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Aw… geez," he muttered. He smiled at Annallee, the gentle, soft, and sweet young lady, and thought back to what Emilia had said. _I'm sure that amidst the sea of girls that chase you around so much, you'll find one that's just right for you._ Marlowe smiled again, gazing into Annallee's soft brown eyes, and knew right then that this shy girl might have very well been what he was looking for.

"………Uhhh, Annallee?"

"Yes?"

"……Uhhh…… Would you like to…… uhhh…… Ummm… maybe go out for lunch sometime?" Marlowe's face was flushed, but Annallee's turned red even faster as she heard the supposed "most desirable young man" in all of Stupid Castle ask her out on a date. She smiled, her face beaming with quiet awe, and silently accepted.

"Yes!" she whispered. "That would be lovely!" She leaned forward to give him a gentle hug, smiling as bright as the sun, and thanked the shy young man.

But inwardly, the quiet young lady cackled wickedly, snarling with vicious victory as her arms held him. Her grin became malicious, and there was no doubt that she would flaunt her new catch around like a prize trophy. _Out of all the women in this castle,_ she thought mentally, _it is I who have you now, my dear boy! Heheheheheheheh!!_

****

The End


	2. Buy a Shield, Sir?: The Tale of Hans

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Buy a Shield, Sir?: The Tale of Hans

I stand right on the road

And peddle all my wares

I fancy selling armor

From the common to the rares

I exchange'm for a price

A hundred potch or two

From shields and gauntlets I give

To the shiny and the new

I make my trade this way

Selling armor to the masses

It's not a bad existence

Helping the gents and then the lasses

Won't you buy a shield, sir?

The price is very low

I make my living this way

Oh please sir, do not go

Some armor for your body?

A helmet for your head?

A gauntlet for your arm, sir?

I'd rather you not be dead

I don't want people hurting

I don't want people lost

If I can help in a small way

Then I have done my most

Won't you buy a shield, sir?

It really is quite cheap

It has the finest quality

The prices are not steep

Oh please buy some armor

It helps you quite a bit

My wares are very stylish

And I assure you that they'll fit!

I wander cross' the world

Parting my possessions for a price

It's not the best existence

But it certainly is quite nice

Making a living off protection

Is the honest way to go

Although you're never praised

The happiness still shows

If I can save but one life

With my choice of armory

Then I'll go home a-smiling

I've _done_ my job, you see!

****

The End


	3. The Rite of Spring: The Tale of Hanna

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The Rite of Spring: The Tale of Hanna

I began life as a small child in a small family that lived in a small village. I had been born a girl, with long untamed brown hair and piercing crystal-blue eyes. I was a thin and wiry thing, and my parents named me HANNA. I had lived my entire childhood in a town called Toto, and up until the time I turned seven years old, my life was a very happy one.

It was summer winds that stirred the joys of my own youth--summer winds, whispering the name of children I played with, and the dog we had. My parents both worked in that town, my father selling wares and my mother at the inn, so they were almost always there for me. It was a small place, warm, with a small population, and I loved it there. My summers were always long and beautiful, like my hair, and I cannot remember a time where I was unhappy.

Summer turned into autumn.

One late summer day, my life was ruined by the fire of greed. Demonic men with green eyes ambushed us while we were talking a walk along the forest path, and demanded we hand over our money or our lives. My mother, a sensible woman, wanted to comply, but my father was bullheaded and protective. He shooed us away and stood guard over us like a shield, and he was killed.

We screamed. I had seen them kill my own father right before my eyes, and for nothing more than a few pouches of money. We tried to run, but were caught by thieves who had been waiting for us in our rear. My mother screamed again, and begged to live. They killed her. I saw her die right before my eyes, the blood dancing madly as it flew across the air and landed in my face. I screamed.

The thieves cackled wickedly, stripping my parents of all their possessions, and gave me a fierce kick that landed me in the bushes. I had been bruised, and covered in red, but other than the emotional trauma that I would suffer for the rest of my life, I was simply fine. They had spared me, seven year-old Hanna, and killed my parents for nothing more than greed and money.

I cried all that day.

In fact, I cried all the way to town. My tears flowed ceaselessly as I ran back, and through whines and sobs, I managed to tell everyone that happened. The people of Toto banded together, some of them going out to the forest to retrieve my dead parents, while the majority went out so they could lynch the bandits that had ruined my life. Their zest did little to ease me; when everybody left town, nobody remained to comfort me, and the children were kept locked indoors. I cried and hugged myself on the streets.

Autumn can be so beautiful sometimes.

In sadness I spent the rest of my childhood years. I was later adopted by two kind people who had no children of their own, and they tried to raise me as best they could. They also tried to make forget about my parents, which they failed to succeed in. But their efforts were appreciated, and I tried to be a good little girl to them. Their greatest joy was hearing me address them as family, and so I called them Mother and Father.

I grew older.

I was slowly crawling towards puberty, and had just began to notice the physical change in my body. I was growing up from a girl into a woman, and Mother and Father helped me through those awkward times. I was eleven.

I grew older.

Beginning to bud in ways other than physical appearance, I decided one day that I would do something about my parent's unjust death. I had been weighing those events in my mind for six years now--for six years, nearly all of my life spent with my biological parents, I had to live with people who did not birth me, and I had to do it while keeping the memory of my orphanage painfully fresh. I was very young when I made this decision, but I was smart enough to know what I wanted.

I wanted to protect people, so my pain would not be repeated. And so, I began to work.

I grew older.

And stronger.

When I turned fifteen, I went on a journey of training, swearing that one day I would come back to Toto and live there as its guardian. I carried only a small bag of clothes, some food I had stored away, and a sword owned by my father. If I could not survive in the wilderness for a few years, and if I could not endure the training regiment of the fighting master I sought out, then I would have a better time staying home, where it was "safe".

And so I took my first steps into the world, away from Toto, and the leaves of the trees began to fall in preparation for winter.

The fighter I sought lived in the Grasslands, far away from the quiet walls of Toto. I first crossed the great wilderness of Muse, encountering many people and sharpening my skills by fighting a few local monsters. I was terrible with the sword, but I vowed to change all that quickly. When one is fighting for their life, one becomes quickly adapted to the ways of the sword.

I crossed all of Muse either on foot or on carriage, and arrived in Greenhill next. I had no need of mental learning; my pursuits were of strength and strength alone. I did take a few days to rest and recuperate from my journey across Muse, and to stock myself with food and equipment, and then I left.

When I crossed the barren lands that separated Greenhill from Tinto, I had already aged another year, and had grown incredibly strong from fighting so many powerful enemies. I was a force to be reckoned with, but unless I received proper training from the fighter I had been looking for, I would never be able to accomplish what I set out to do. And so, after resting and packing supplies in Tinto, I began to cross the mountains.

The peaks were incredibly high, and extremely jagged and rough. I could not believe how harsh the environment was, and how little footholds I had. Sometimes I had to scale sheer cliffs with my sword strapped to my back, other times I had to leap chasms and fight off the occasional beast. The winds were harsh and cruel, and the air was thin, and it was so bitterly cold that I had to kill and skin my first animal to provide myself with suitable clothes…

Autumn winds grew chilly, and winter fell like the gentle flakes of snow…

My body was liquid, my movements very slow and deliberate. I was carrying exceptionally heavy weighted clothes, and was utilizing all of my skills just to stay balanced. _No matter what,_ said my master, _you must stay balanced. For the entire day, you shall perform your normal exercise, but on one foot. Tomorrow you will be on the other._

The combined weight I was carrying was exactly 100 Libras, excluding my sword. I had been told to move exceptionally slow, like water in a calm brook, and to weave and wave like trees in an almost-still wind--all the while standing on only one foot. This was my master's training: strengthen my muscles with resistance, increase my speed by getting me accustomed to slow movement, improve balance by using only one foot…

I was in basic training for a whole year.

Naked, save for the cloth that supplied as my undergarments, I stood still in the water, my eyes shut tight in extreme concentration. The waters of the calm river were extremely cold, and I had to endure it for a whole hour. Other students of my master were performing similar duties, each one clothed in only the necessary. Aside from physical labor, I also had to endure extreme temperatures, as well as extreme situations, and everything in between.

The training schedule of my master, the man who lived in the Grasslands (and the same one I had sought while on my journey), was brutally tough. Only the most dedicated trainees could have endured them all; this was not for the weak. I had stumbled and fumbled several times in my early months, but now I was getting used to everything.

An hour passed, and I slowly stood out of the frigid waters. My lips were blue, I had goosebumps all over, and I was shivering involuntarily. My next task would take place five minutes later, after I had a chance to rest. It was an easy one this time: all I had to do was climb to the top of a mountain and retrieve an object that another student had placed there. Simple.

The freezing kiss of winter became deep. It seemed I was in love.

Finally, after two straight years of basic training, I was ready to fight with the sword. I had just turned nineteen years old--I had been away from my home for four years--so I think I was ready. After looking over my performance, my fighting master approved and began to teach me the basics of sword fighting. I had changed drastically in these four years: I was still sinewy, but in a muscular sense. My hair was very long and unkempt; I had not laid a comb on it in years. My piercing blue eyes stared back emptily at the world, glossed over by the sight of so much hardship. I had grown tall, and strong, and intimidating, but my winter was not over yet.

Blizzard.

Looking down at my reflection, I tried to smile and failed. I had become exceptionally grave in the past few years, and had a very hard time smiling. I suppose I was attractive, but with my muscular frame, my harsh, husky voice, my stony face, and my intimidating height, what sort of man would want to be around me? No, none, but that was okay. Mine was a quest of strength, not love.

I was now twenty-two years old. The sword I had brought with me was now destroyed from so much use. It was rusted, and bent, and even cracked in some places. Since I had just attained the highest level of technique from my master, he instead gave me a new sword. It was not a powerful blade at all, it was weak--solely fore the intention of strengthening me yet again. Fights were over too soon with a sharp tool.

I had only recently graduated from my master's school, and with my skills perfect, I could finally return home. Spring was drawing near, but I still had another rite of passage to perform before I could be rewarded.

Gentle blankets of empty white greeted me. It was in the dead of winter when I left.

I passed over the mountains of Tinto easily. My training was paying off already; I could easily scale a whole mountain without breaking a sweat. My arrival in Tinto was brief; I was mostly stared at, and questioned, and my replies were few and short. I rested a day, and ate my fill. They had steak there, my favorite, and I treated myself a little before leaving.

The passage from Tinto to Greenhill was too easy. Monsters fell from a simple swish of my weak sword, chasms were hopped over easily, and even the most daunting cliff was easily descended. All my years of hard work was paying off handsomely, and soon I was back in Greenhill. I only took one day to rest before heading back on the road. After all, Toto was still far away.

In the open wilderness between Greenhill and Muse, it began to rain. I didn't mind getting wet--after all, I had trained under much harsher conditions--and pressed onward. I wanted to arrive home soon. I had missed the place too much. But on my way to Toto, I encountered my first real challenge in that soggy plain. From out of a thicket of trees emerged an extremely rare creature to that region: a behemoth, large and powerful and red as the blood it was about to spill.

It roared out in a grand fury as it saw me, and advanced with the speed of an arrow. It was brutally fast, and just as strong, and was soon gnashing its teeth right in my face. By the strength of my sword and shield alone was I able to block its powerful attack, and I leaped back to finally give myself some room. I glared at it, but it charged again with horns and teeth and paws.

It took a single slap at me, sending me down to the ground in a beaten heap. Again and again it struck, with teeth or claws, and sometimes even struck me. I would back away on occasion, watching it through the veil of falling rain, and struck when I saw an opening. Lightning flashed in a dramatic explosion as I made a gigantic gash on the creature.

I backed away again, and for awhile, the two of us circled each other, watching the for the other one to make a false move. I held my sword tight as I dared to stare into the beast's eyes, and must have walked 180 degrees in that field. It suddenly advanced, shaking its mane as its teeth chomped at me, and I beat it with the blade of my sword. It snarled, charged again, and I struck it a second time. The beast grew dizzy from the surprising power of my attack, and charged one more time in an attempt to finish me off.

I suddenly raised my sword, and with a mighty thrust, dug the blade deep into its body as I swerved away. It let out a groan, and fell to the ground in defeat, and I snarled in the rain and thunder. Slowly, I walked over to its vulnerable side, and with the barbarism of a berserker, I dug my blade in its ribs and roared again. I struck a third time, plowing my blade in as deep as it would go.

And with one final swoop, I cleaved its head off, and stood on top of the monster as the rain fell and purified the land. I had won. I was victorious. I was _ready._

The weather grew warm, but I was still in winter.

I had to cross a desert first.

Across burning miles of sand and whitewashed bones I trudged on, my sword at my side and my hair at my back. I had long ago stripped down to a conservative Amazon's uniform, covering only my chest and waist, and boots for my feet. The desert was unbelievably hot, and it stretched open for miles at a time, but never once did I trip or stumble on my way. I did not suffer from the heat--my fighting master saw to that.

I thirsted little while in the pure wasteland, and almost never grew tired. I slept little, even though the barren wasteland went on for two days, and aside from the rare spider, scorpion, and lizard, I encountered no danger. This desert was not a challenge; I could trudge onward, past the sandstorm and the tar pit and the dunes and the endless field of sand, onward until the sun rose to the apex of the sky, and burned down upon me mercilessly.

Before me stretched the vast seas, and if I wanted to reach beloved Toto, I would have to hire a ship.

One calm night, as I stood on the deck of the boat I was renting, the waters grew nervous and the ship began to rock. The wind picked up fiercely, and from out of nowhere, a thunderbolt fell from the sky and illuminated the world. I heard the sailors scream of a storm, but I stood still on the deck, watching the seas before me and the sky above me. Let the rain come. Let the wind blow. I am prepared.

I regretted my words quickly. The storm became intense, sending waves smashing against the boat. Their strength was comparable to the behemoth's I had fought, and the winds buffeted them towards the boat with even more power. The sky exploded with thunder, and my long, mangled brown hair whipped in the fierce wind. Keeping my cold stare ahead, I bent down and shielded my face in an attempt to weather the storm a little.

The ship actually careened slightly, and was being tossed so badly that I thought the whole thing would tip over. Men left and right of me were scrambling to keep her safe, but I was in the thick of the storm, watching and waiting and seeing which of us were mightier. This was all just another rite of passage for me.

A hungry storm devoured the ship, and I don't know how many people had succumbed to nature's fury as well, but I know that I was not one of them.

I found myself walking across a small field of grass, my body still dripping wet from the sea I had been swimming in. I had found dry land, and except for a few cuts and bruises, I was perfectly all right. Without a care in the world, I walked through the small grass until I came to a sign. It read, "Toto: 3 mi.". I smiled with relief as I read the sign, and placed my sword in its sheath as I prepared to arrive home. At my feet, violets were beginning to bloom.

****

The End


	4. Give Us a Smile: Sid's Fun Stories to Te...

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Give Us A Smile: Sid's Fun Stories to Tell Little Children at Night

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Gather round, kids, and I'll tell you a few stories… You like stories, right?

YEAH!!!!

Hehehehehe… good, good… Because I have lots to tell! Now… what shall my first story be…? Ah, I know! Let's start out with one of my favorites! It's called…

"Jigsaw"

Once upon a time, there was an old woman who lived all by herself. She was very old, and very lonely, but she didn't mind at all. This old woman had a passion for jigsaw puzzles--day and night, she would occupy herself with solving jigsaw puzzles one by one. It soon came to a point where that was all she did, except for sleep and eat.

One day, the old woman was working on a very large jigsaw puzzle. She had just bought it that very day, and was just now starting to put the pieces together. Slowly, one by one, she fit the puzzle together, until it began to resemble a nice house by the woods. The old woman started to like this house, and thought she had seen it somewhere. It looked very familiar to her.

As she continued to place the puzzle together, the old lady drew in a deep breath as she realized that the puzzle was _her_ house. Every column, every window, every shingle and brick, it was all hers. The old lady shivered in fear as she continued to place more pieces together, and through one of the windows, she could see herself, placing pieces together from that very same jigsaw puzzle.

With quivering hands, the old lady put the very last pieces of the puzzle together, and was shocked to see the image of a man with a knife somewhere in the puzzle. The very last thing that the old woman heard was the sound of shattering glass. The End.

__

HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!!

Waaaaaaaahh!!! That was too scary!!

Oh, hehehe, I'm sorry kids… should I tell a story that's a little funnier?

(sniffle) Yeah… that was too scary! Tell us a funny story!

Hehehehe… all right… Now, let's see… Okay, here's one. It's called…

"Eyes"

Once upon a time, there lived a man who hated the dark more than anything. He lived all by himself in a normal-sized house, and almost always kept the lights on. He was a very superstitious man, and believed in ghosts and demons and especially the Bogeyman. He had no friends, because everyone though of him as a big coward.

One day, the man came home from buying groceries to find that the power to his house had been cut off. The man tried everything he could to activate a light, but he couldn't find anything, and so he had to feel his way around. The man was in a cold sweat already, and he swore he could hear noises coming from the house that weren't his own.

The man eventually set his groceries in the kitchen, and decided to go see if he could do something about the light, so he went in search of a candle and matches. Suddenly, as he stepped into the hallway, he froze solid. There before him, staring directly at his face, were a pair of eyes shining dimly in the darkness. The man was stricken with terror, for it was nearly pitch-black in the house, and he had no idea what kind of creature this was.

The man was paralyzed with fear, so the only thing he could do was stare at the eyes and wait for his death. But the creature staring at him never moved; it just kept its eyes locked on him, waiting, watching, with unmovable, unlikable eyes. The man called out to the creature in a timid voice, but received no reply in return. The only thing he could do was look at the eyes and hope that the thing would go away.

Suddenly, the lights flickered back on, and for one single brief terrifying moment, the man thought that his days were over, and whatever had been looking at him would finally pounce. But as the lights came back on to full power, the man saw that he had been looking directly into the hall mirror all that time. The End.

__

(sniffle) That was still too scary!!

Hehehe… aww, poor kids! I tried to make it funny just for you!

(sniffle) It wasn't funny at all! It was too scary!!

Hehehe… well if you didn't like those last two, then maybe this one'll be better… it's called…

"The Hangman"

Once upon a time, there lived two young boys, Douglas and Yancy. They were brothers, who lived on a farm during the years before the Gate Rune Wars. Yancy was the bigger brother, the kind that always did well in whatever he set his mind to. Douglas was the one who did not usually do so well, so he looked up to Yancy as an example. Even though Douglas loved his bigger brother very much, he wanted to do something worthy of impressing him. Day and night he thought, but still couldn't come up with anything.

One day, Yancy was drafted in the war to fight for Lord Tir McDohl. He would be gone for some time, leaving Douglas all alone. Normally, with the more-gifted brother gone, all attention would now be drawn towards Douglas, and for a time it was. But Douglas wanted more than just attention--he wanted to prove to Yancy that he was just as brave and gifted as his brother. He wanted to do something bold, something unusual, something daring. In a slight fit of insanity, Douglas decided that he would hang himself.

Of course, he never planned on doing it on purpose. He had to make it look like an accident. For a few days, in-between doing his daily chores, Douglas would think about how he would make everything look like an accident. An idea came to him when he almost slipped from the upper rafters of a hay barn he had been working in. There were ropes situated in several key positions, and if Doug set things up right, he could make it look like he had slipped and "somehow" gotten his neck in one of the ropes.

The plan was foolproof, so after running through the basic design, Doug began to practice. He knew that he would have to have a high endurance for hanging himself, so whenever he could, he would practice hanging himself in private. With a stool, a nail, a watch, and a noose, he began his slow walk towards heroism. The first run-through, he stayed hanged for ten seconds.

The next day, he stood up for fifteen, then half a minute, then forty-five, then sixty. In just a few days, Douglas could stay hanged for one whole minute. But that wasn't enough: soon, he could go for two minutes, then five, then ten, then fifteen. Fifteen minutes turned into twenty, and twenty became half an hour. Douglas could stay hanged for half an hour. Then, one day, he broke his record and stayed hanged for sixty whole minutes--one hour. He could not last a second after that--one hour was his limit.

One day, Douglas and his parents received word that Yancy had been wounded in battle, and he was at a hospital. Douglas' time was now growing short: he had to get things ready for the day when his brother came back. It took him a week to set things up so that it would look like he slipped on the rafters and fell into the ropes, so now all he had to do was wait.

Finally, the day came when his parents were called down to the hospital. It was twenty-five minutes away if they went on foot, and they would probably take about ten minutes or so to get situated at the clinic, so the timing couldn't have been better. Douglas knew that he would be cutting things close, but he thought it would all be worth it. So, when his parents left to go get Yancy, he ran over to the barn as fast as he could.

Douglas had lowered one of the ropes that hung from the rafters so that it nearly stretched to the floor, but still left enough room for him to dangle. He then climbed up on a stool, and positioned himself so that the rope was snug around his neck. He knew that, in order for it to look like an accident, he had to appear like he was near death, so the hour spent hanging was essential. So without any further fuss, Douglas fit himself in the noose, kicked the stool away, and began to wait.

One minute passed, then five, then ten, then twenty. Half an hour passed. Forty-five minutes sailed on by, then fifty, then fifty-eight. He was cutting things very close. Douglas began to grow a little concerned when the fifty-ninth minute flew by, and for a brief horrific moment, he thought that his parents has been delayed somehow.

But as his vision became blurry and his face turned blue, Douglas managed a smile as he saw his parents and Yancy approach the farm. As soon as they were within listening range, he called out for them: "M-moooommm… d-daaaad… Y-Yancyyyy… h-h-h-helllppp…" Both his mother and father screamed out as they saw their son caught, but it was Douglas' blurry vision that saw the most horrific scene. Just before passing out, he noticed that both of Yancy's arms had been shot off.

Gaaaah-aaachchh-accchkkk-gaahahhhh!!!!

__

That was creepy! That was too scary! Don't tell us any more stories, please!

Hehehehe… just one more, okay? I promise!

Well…

It's really cool. I saved my best one for last.

Well… I guess so… Yeah, my mommy won't mind… Sure, one more.

Hehehe… you're gonna love it! I call it…

"Give Us A Smile"

Once upon a time, there lived two boys, Smith and David. Smith and David lived in a fairly small town, where not a whole lot happened. Smith was an average paper delivery boy and David's parents worked at a blood bank, so they both led pretty typical lives. However, one day, David told Smith about a creepy old man that lived in a house that was supposed to be haunted.

"It's real!" exclaimed David. "The entire place is filled with spooks! And old Mr. Drazil is their master! I heard he sleeps in a coffin and walks the night so he can drink people's blood!"

"You're just making up stories!" said Smith defensively. "There's no such thing as ghosts and vampires!"

"Oh? Then you won't mind coming along with me to expose Mr. Drazil for the monster he is!" stated David. Smith grew a little more nervous.

"…Well… it's not that I don't want to, it's just that… well, you don't just sneak into other people's houses, not even if they're old and creepy!"

"Chickeeeeen!" cackled David. Smith grew angry, and eventually went along with David to see whether Mr. Drazil was really a vampire or not. The day was becoming evening by the time they left their houses, and by the time they arrived at the haunting abode of Mr. Drazil, it was growing darker by the moment.

Mr. Drazil's house was one of those old, creepy manors that looks like it's always haunted by ghosts. The lawn hadn't been mowed in months, and there was even a graveyard on the property. Local people said that it was just the Drazil family mausoleum, but David said that it was filled with the people that Mr. Drazil drained of blood. The sky was dark and cloudy, and a dog in the distance began howling, so Smith was a little nervous.

"Go on!" ushered David, more or less pushing his friend. "Go in and see for yourself!"

"I'm going!" declared Smith, and both he and David slowly crept inside Mr. Drazil's house. The inside was very dark and musty, and had a few cobwebs strewn about. Everything was blanketed in a dark light, so it was very difficult to see inside. Suddenly, David pointed off to the side. He had spotted a coffin!

"No way!" hissed Smith. "It can't be!" But upon further examination, the boys saw that it was only a very old icebox. With a sigh of relief, both boys decided it would be better to leave the house as soon as possible. Suddenly, as they were creeping outside, they were stopped by a dark, shadowy creature!!! It was Mr. Drazil, as old and creepy and suspicious as ever!

"What are you children doing in my house?" he said in a creaky voice. Before Smith could answer, though, Mr. Drazil gasped in horror and pointed at David. "It's you!" he shouted. "You're the vampire!"

"Huh? Hey, we thought _you_ were the vampire, old man!" said Smith. Mr. Drazil sneered but insisted that David was the vampire. David snorted and insisted on leaving, and Smith would have followed if he hadn't been stopped by Mr. Drazil.

"Hold it! Before you go, ask your friend to smile. When he grins, you'll see his fangs! Then you'll know that he's a vampire!" Smith looked at David questionably, and both boys shrugged.

"This is bull," snorted David. "I'm outta here!"

"Wait!" said Smith. "Just to be safe, would you smile for me? I'd hate to be charged with breaking and entering into an old guy's house, and besides, I wanna make sure."

"…Well, okay," said David, and slowly…

__

Ack, stop!

What? What's wrong?

Stop! This story is scarier than all of the others! Waaah-haa-haa…

…So?

…(sniffle) Well… maybe we should all smile too. I wanna found out if there are any vampires in here…

…Heh… okay…

And so, the children all bared their teeth, each one giving the other a pearly smile that assured everyone present that there were no vampires around. But in the middle of showing off their own grins to everyone, nobody noticed the fact that, for the first time in a long while, Sid had refused to smile.

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The End

Secret disclaimer: I don't own any of the scary stories here, except for "Eyes", which I made up myself.


	5. Which Way Up?: The Tale of Raura

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Which Way Up?: The Tale of Raura

When Raura went to sleep with her new book, she knew exactly where she was going. Of course, where she was going and where she ended up were often two very different things.

"Whoa, sorry! I thought you already read that one! Well, since you know the ending now, maybe you should just read the book backwards!!" He smiled and winked at her, and went off to flirt with the next poor girl that came by. Raura rolled her eyes, sighed, and decided to give Sheena's suggestion a try.

"Sheena!!! Don't spoil the story for me!!!" Sheena backed away with an apologetic look on his face.

"Hey, I read this book before!" he exclaimed. "Yeah! The hero dies at the ending."

"Some other time," she smiled, mimicking Jess' tone word for word. Sheena grumbled to himself, then suddenly pointed to the book.

"Oh, nothing," he replied. "You could go out on a date with me!"

"Why hello, Lord Sheena! What can I do for you?"

"Hey, Raura," said Sheena. Raura smiled at the young boy, and turned her head to greet him. She was also one of the few women that could endure the boy's mindless flirting.

Emilia helped her find a book she had wanted to read, and Raura took a peek in it when all of a sudden, a rude head poked over her shoulder.

After her hours were over, Raura left her business once again to have dinner, and then would spend the rest of the day doing whatever she felt like. She wanted to go to the library to find a new book to read, but instead she found herself on the stage. After getting directions from Annallee, Raura finally found the library just before it closed.

"Oh, well. At least he knows I'm interested."

"…Some other time," he murmured before leaving. Raura pouted playfully, and sighed as he left her shop.

"Would you like to go out on a date with me sometime?" she asked. A pause. Jess didn't want to hurt her feelings, so he let her down softly.

"Yes?"

"Oh." A slight tinge of disappointment was in Raura's voice. "I haven't seen him today, but I'll be on the lookout for you!" He smiled at her in thanks, and proceeded to leave her shop to continue his search elsewhere. Suddenly, Raura cried out, "Oh Lord Jess!"

"Uh, yes, actually," he said. "I was, uh, looking for Viktor."

"Looking for something?" she guessed. A pause.

"Oh, uh, nothing really," he said. Jess was looking around Raura's shop, as if he were interested in one of the little knickknacks she also sold, but it didn't seem like that after awhile.

"Why, Lord Jess!" she exclaimed. "I don't get a chance to see you in my shop very often! What can I do for you?"

Eventually, Raura's business for the day fell, and she resorted back to reading her book. A few customers interrupted her, but other than these few, the day was pretty uneventful. Suddenly, there came a visitor which Raura liked _very_ much, and she smiled just a little wider as he came in the door.

Jeane was one of the few people who knew Raura's secret, and Raura knew Jeane's, so the two were actually quite close in such a populated and crazy castle. Jeane knew of Raura's secret crush, and Raura knew just how old--or young, in this case--Jeane really was, so the two saw eye-to-eye.

She eventually took some time off to chat with her friend Jeane, who always got more customers for "some" reason. Raura didn't really care either way: she liked Jeane a lot (and who _didn't_, though Raura's respect was aimed at something besides her outer looks), and would even listen as she pale Rune Mistress told of her exotic experiences. Both women were well-versed in the ways of erotic mercantile--they used their good looks to their advantage, and their mysterious ways drew in even more people.

Raura received a small crowd that day, and got all the way to chapter four by the time lunch rolled around. She boomeranged from Hai Yo's to her house (somehow), carrying a bag of goodies with her. A lot of people went shopping around lunch, so Raura had to stay on the clock even during her break.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I hope you find your criminal." Zamza sniffed, stuck his nose in the air a little, and wandered off to proclaim his greatness elsewhere. Sure, he was an annoyance, but there were worse people that lived in Stupid Castle. Zamza was the lesser of a few evils, and once one got past his narcissistic pride, he wasn't _really_ that bad.

"Quite…" he muttered. Zamza then pretended to look through a bag of his, in an effort to sort out a powerful crystal, and came out with his hands empty. "My dear lady," he said, "it appears as if I will not be able to do business with you. I seem to have been thieved of my possessions." Knowing full well that Zamza never had anything worth stealing, Raura just smiled and shrugged.

"Well," she said as she shuffled through the messes, "if you bring me a True Rune, then I might be able to make something very spectacular. Of course, since there is no such thing as a True Rune crystal, I guess you're out of luck."

"Pardon me, my good lady," he addressed, "but I was wondering if you have anything here that a person with my skills will be able to use." With a smile, Raura decided to humor him and looked for her most powerful scrolls.

Poor Raura didn't get quite as many people in her shop as Tessei or Hans, so she always remembered to bring plenty of reading material with her. Her first book was an epic tale of magic and knights and heroes, and Raura was just through the first chapter when she received her first customer. It was Zamza, the conceited "wizard", and thankfully, Raura was one of the few people that could endure him.

"What the--?" Confused about the whole matter, poor Raura decided to simply shrug it all off and open shop. She uttered the magic spell that opened the door, and turned the sign from "Closed" to "Open", and strolled inside to wait for her first customer.

But when she found herself in the dojo, staring back at a few martial artists, she had to wonder what was going on. Mondo, who was there training Sasuke, told her that she had taken another wrong turn, and that she should probably head for the barracks next. Raura had no idea why he recommended going to the soldier's barracks, but when she did, she somehow found her way to her shop!

After eating breakfast, Raura decided that she should go and open up shop, even though it was so early that most of the residents of Stupid Castle were still asleep--and some would be sleeping long after she had her lunch. But with nothing else to do, she really had no other choice and thus, made her way to the Rune Scroll Shop.

"Oh." The three of them continued to eat in silence--if one could call Tai Ho's boasting silence. The man never really did stop talking about his victories on the lake, and though Yam Koo was technically a better fisher (and knew which stories of Tai's were true and which were false), he would listen anyway--though sometimes he would comment on which of the tales were the truest.

"Not really," she said. "I just thought I should get up early.

"We don't usually see you up this early," noted Yam Koo. "Is there something special going on?"

"Hey, pretty lady!" greeted Tai Ho in his usual fashion. Raura smiled and greeted him back.

So when Raura awoke, she first went to Hai Yo's kitchen for some breakfast, and found that since the hour was early, only a few select people were up and about. Tai Ho and Yam Koo were two of them, and since she didn't know how to cook, Raura just grabbed some fruit and sat down to talk to the fishermen.

Nobody knew where her bed was, or even if she had a bed to sleep in, or even if she slept at all. Raura was just one of those many people in Stupid Castle that seemed to have a lot of mystery surrounding them, but since she was such a nice, polite, and classy lady, nobody seemed to care if she slept or not.

Raura woke up very early that morning, since she anticipated that it was going to be a busy day.

****

End The

Closing comments: Don't understand the story? Well, just remember that Raura is a girl that had a _very bad sense of direction._


	6. The Maddening Conditions: The Tale of Gi...

****

The Maddening Conditions: The Tale of Gilbert

So, what's a mercenary to do once the war's over and the day's won? Go home and be with the wife and kids, of course. And that's exactly what Gilbert did--he left the Stupid Castle without making a sound, found a boat, and sailed most of the way to his home town, where he arrived without pomp and in fact very few people had even noticed he was missing. That didn't matter--the point was that the fighting was over, and Gilbert was home, and he could finally rest and take things easy. After all, his wife needed somebody to love, and his son needed somebody to model after.

It was best for Gilbert to not think of why he left his family in the first place. He didn't like making up excuses, like "they needed the money" or "it was all for the best"; the point was that he had been absolutely brilliant in battle, and absolutely terrible as a family man. Seeking to remedy this most ill situation was Gilbert's first priority once the war was over. In other words, he was finally ready to return to real life.

Gilbert's home was not much--barely large enough to hold four--but it was a nice place, with lots of warmth and a little touch of sophistication. The former mercenary had gotten rather rich during the Dunan Unification War, and so now he could finally give his family the life they deserved, and not one living in this mediocre city. Gilbert had been gone from Zexen for some time, but could've found his way home blindfolded; the entire city had not changed at all since he left it.

After briefly weaving his way through the streets (with his eyes open), Gilbert entered his house and sighed. The mere scent of home brought back a load of memories to the mercenary, most of them good. His wife and son had not changed the house at all, except maybe a little cleaning here and there. Blowing out a deep breath, Gilbert threw off his red mantle and shouted out to his small family that finally, he was home.

Silence.

Raising a quizzical eyebrow, Gilbert just assumed that nobody was home, and made his way to the master bedroom to change his outfit. Living as a merc meant that one couldn't be picky about their clothes, so Gilbert would've been relieved to wear something different for a change. Mysteriously, the door to the master bedroom was locked, which it had never been before, not even once. Gilbert's confusion over the locked knob lasted for quite awhile, even as he muttered a curse and pulled out a few picks for the lock.

After a minor struggle, the door came loose and Gilbert was able to enter the bedroom. He had known something was wrong the very second his hand touched the knob: neither his wife nor his son was foolish enough to leave the house with the bedroom door locked, and unless they were in the room themselves (doing who-knows-what), Gilbert could assume the worst. After muttering a complaint about said door and lock, he stepped into the room and quickly discovered why he had been prevented from entering.

He screamed.

His wife was home--and in a way, she was not. She was lying on the bed, with her body facing the ceiling, and her hands were folded neatly over her stomach. Her eyes and mouth were closed, and if there hadn't been a puddle of blood splattered all over the bed and the floor, Gilbert would have thought she was sleeping. He nearly vomited as he gazed at his blood-stained lover, and wept tears of hot rage and horror as he dared look at the weapon of destruction. A knife had been plunged straight into her heart (which was the cause of most of the blood), and grotesquely enough, a note had been pinned onto her.

Gilbert immediately ran to his dead lover, cradling her cold body in his hands. He let out a screech, and mourned so bitterly that the windows vibrated from his cry. With a tear-streaked face, he looked at the note that had been stuck onto his wife, and his grief quickly turned into rage as he read the letter. It had been written in _her_ blood.

"Sir,

Your attendance is requested at the utmost urgency. Please RSVP at the town square once you read this note, and one of my business associates will accompany you to my place of residence, where we may discuss further terms. I am most displeased that we were not able to finish our initial business, but I hope we can clear away any bad blood in this next meeting, if you'll pardon the pun. If by some chance you are unable to attend, then we will delight in taking the life of another one of your loved ones. You do not have many, so I assume you know that of whom I speak.

Regards,

Your old friend, Stratos"

Gilbert let out such an animalistic growl that he nearly shattered his own vocal chords. He screamed out in an uncontrollable fury, and ripped the note to shreds before tossing the pieces in a trashcan. His dark eyes became filled with hate and malice, and the former mercenary would've gone insane at that very moment if a certain person didn't emerge from their hiding spot.

From out of the closet emerged his son, sniveling and crying bitterly. Gilbert's fiery heart cooled down and melted as he saw his son there, and the relief of seeing him alive almost made him feel good. The mercenary instantly put his arms around the boy, and held him close in a comforting grasp. Though crying himself, he whispered soft, gentle words to his boy, and assured him that everything would be okay, even if he himself didn't believe it.

After having his wife buried, and his son taken to a foster home, Gilbert found his weapon and put on his mantle once again. The farewell with his son was brief; he had business to take care of, and the sooner he got things done, the sooner he could go back to salvaging what was left of his life. So after leaving his son, Gilbert took his sword and made his way to the town square. He never saw the boy again.

The person waiting for him smiled, and surprisingly, Gilbert showed no emotion. He simply followed the other man as they made their way to the headquarters of the mob boss known only as Stratos. Gilbert kept a calm demeanor all the way, and was in no way ashamed to be seen carrying a naked sword with him. He knew he would have to give the tool up sooner or later--after all, Stratos was a very important, and very suspicious man.

Gilbert knew Stratos from way back when; the two had done business before, and as mentioned in the letter, their ties had been cut off. Gilbert seemed to favor other patrons, which made Stratos quite angry--angry enough to kill. The man was dangerous, and ruthless, but mostly he was merciless. Stratos would kill without batting an eye, or else he'd get one of his many famous assassins to do the job for him. He was as powerful as he was rich; some said that he was the _real_ boss of the Howling Voice Guild, and others claimed that he owned most of the Harmonian government.

Gilbert greeted Stratos impassively. The two had never seen eye to eye before, and it would be an understatement to say that they detested each other. Stratos liked Gilbert a little more than he hated him: the man was useful, to a point, and though unreliable at times, he could definitely pull through if given enough incentive. The business that had started between these two men was of the dirty kind, and Stratos wanted to bring things to a conclusion in the worst way.

"Well, so you came at last!" exclaimed the mob boss in a very creaky voice. "Good, that's good. I was anticipating your arrival. I think that 'letter attached to the knife' bit was a very keen idea, don't you agree?" Silence. A weaponless Gilbert crossed his arms, gazing at the wiry Stratos with dead eyes. He was so overcome with emotion that all he could do was keep a poker face.

"…Well," sniffed Stratos after a pause, "I suppose your feelings on the matter are rather ill, eh? I suppose I should apologize for killing your wife, but… ehh, I didn't know of any other way to really get your attention."

"Try standard mail," muttered Gilbert. "I never heard of a person dying that way."

"People die all the time," sighed Stratos with a wave of his hand. "You yourself must have been responsible for the deaths of many people in that war of yours. You might've even killed as many people as I have, though I doubt it."

"Those killings were justified as the means of accomplishing goals and setting boundaries," replied Gilbert. "War is terrible, yes, but it is also necessary."

"Spare me," moaned Stratos. "I don't need to be reminded of your crusades. I have enough bleeding hearts in my own regime as it is--ahhh, if you'll pardon the use of my language." The mobster smiled eerily, and the men in the room laughed along with his twisted joke. Gilbert snarled a little, but just a little. He didn't want to do anything drastic until he was certain that he could get away with it.

"So why'd you ask me to come here?" asked Gilbert, making sure that he kept his eyes on Stratos and his back against the wall. He had learned long ago that an exposed back was a very, very, very bad thing.

"Just to finish something that should have reached a conclusion many weeks ago," replied Stratos. He handed Gilbert a folder that contained several papers concerning the mercenary's final job with Stratos, and Gilbert regarded the papers with disdain. It was true that the work he had started was inconclusive, but unless this was of vital importance to Stratos……

"This doesn't look too important," argued the former merc. "Just another one of your dirty assassination jobs."

"True, but I always like to see a job, or a former client, finished in the end." He smiled and even laughed at his own joke, and the guards joined in. Gilber smiled too, but for a completely different reason. Slowly, he slid a hidden dagger he kept in his sleeve down from his shoulder to his wrist, and caught it before it could be exposed.

"Really?"

"Yes," said Stratos with a grin. Gilbert saw his chance. It was now or never. Even if he should die, the world would've been relieved of one more monster at least, then maybe his son could live in peace……

"Then, as a man of business, you'll appreciate what I'm about to do next," he said. Without waiting for Stratos to inquire about what he meant, Gilbert leaped forward and plunged the dagger into Stratos' neck. The mobster jerked back in shock, and was thrown to the floor by a frantic Gilbert. The guards to the room instantly drew their own weapons, mostly crossbows, and a hail of arrows and throwing knives rained down on Gilbert as he stormed out of the building.

It was only by the skin of his teeth that Gilbert made it out alive, though he did get a little cut from a stray arrow. The wound was nothing; he'd have time to heal later, but now he needed to run for his life. Years of being in the mercenary's and assassin's guilds had made him quick, so he was able to escape not only the building, but also all of Zexen. His son would be taken to a different city, where he could hopefully live out his days in anonymity, but as for Gilbert, he would be stuck as a wandering fugitive from the mob for the rest of his life.

_So much for an early retirement,_ he cursed to himself.

One month passed.

Gilbert now found himself in in Kalekka, a small town situated somewhere between the Toran Republic and the City-States. The town had been abandoned for some time now, and only recently had any life bothered to come back to it. The ghost town was perfect for Gilbert to hide in--nobody in their right mind would think of looking for him there. Of course, that meant that he was all the more exposed, since Stratos' men would most definitely look in the least-likely places first.

But for the time being, he would hide out there, until he could discover a way of fighting back. His skills alone would be insufficient to counter Stratos' forces. Even without the big guy in charge, there were still plenty of people left over to constitute a threat. And as a gruesome side note, Stratos still had his infamous gallery of assassins to choose from, some of whom were so nasty and wicked that they made Lucia from the Karayan seem docile.

Suddenly, Gilbert's sensitive ears picked up the sound of approaching footsteps. He instantly went for his sword, but would not draw until he knew who was coming. The steps came closer, Gilbert held his breath, a shadowy figure appeared…

"Who's there?" he asked, the grip on his weapon tightening slightly. A chuckling sound came from outside, and Gilbert drew his weapon for all the world to see. He snarled as several of Stratos' low-ranking assassins came into the room, and noticed that not one of them was unarmed. He growled a little, and knew immediately that he had been found.

"Bah! I was certain that it'd take you guys a lot longer to find me!" he snarled. The assassins merely chuckled, and a few of them already started to run towards Gilbert with the intention of finishing him off. "Fools," muttered the merc. "When'll you ever learn…?"

__

Slash! Slice! Swing! Chop!

Silence. Four assassins fell to the floor, dead as stones.

"Pathetic," sighed Gilbert, cleaning his sword of blood. He was not even breathing hard. "Just pathetic. I expected more from Stratos' goons. Is that the best you can throw at me?"

"No," came another voice from outside. The assassins, or what was left of them, suddenly turned as pale as ash as they heard the voice, and each and every one of them backed away to make room for the new figure. Gilbert became curious as he saw them cower, and couldn't help but wonder if Stratos had anybody that fearful left.

"_I _am the best they can throw at you," came the voice again, and with the voice came a figure, and with the figure came a face. The figure was almost completely covered up by a white cloak and hood, but Gilbert could make out the face. It belonged to a woman, a very beautiful and very deadly woman, with eyes of coldest blue and locks of purest gold. Gilbert couldn't see any other feature except for her face or her hair, but from the looks on the other assassins' faces, this was a woman to fear.

"And who are you?" he asked. The woman smiled at him, like a jackal smiles before ripping up their prey, and threw off her hood to make proper introductions.

"I am called… 'The Hell-Hunter'," she said, and immediately the woman dashed forward, tossing her cloak aside and swiping at Gilbert with ferocious… _claws?_ The mercenary barely dodged the blow, but the wall was less fortunate. Four terrible slash marks had been scratched onto the stone--four very deep, and very wide marks. The other assassins groaned out in horror as the woman known only as Hell-Hunter attacked the wall.

Slowly, the blonde turned her head, licked her lips, and smiled.

"I didn't have to miss," she hissed in a rough, calculating voice. Gilbert swallowed, and his hearing picked up again as the remaining assassins crept up on him. No matter how incompetent they were, he had no chance of facing them all at the same time, let alone with this maniacal woman in the room with them.

"Take a hike, boys," ordered the woman as she turned away from the shredded wall. "If you don't mind, I'd like to handle things myself from here on out."

"Y-yes, ma'am!" they muttered, and every single one of them ran away from the building as fast as their feet could carry them. That left Gilbert and the Hell-Hunter all alone, lucky him.

"Just what do you want, anyway?" he asked of her. She smiled back at him wickedly, proudly placing one hand on her hips. Each hand was protected by a gauntlet that had claws for fingers, so the blonde woman could inflict massive damage with just a singe stroke. It was obvious that she was strong--no normal person could've carved up the wall like she did--so unless Gilbert had a plan, he was pretty much screwed.

"I want you to die," said the Hell-Hunter calmly, and she dashed forward once again to swipe at him. Her speed was unbelievable, and her attacks were fanatical. Slash by slash, step by step, she forced Gilbert to back away until he was at the door to the house. He raised his sword to defend himself, but it was almost shattered by the full power of the hellish woman attacking him.

"What is your deal, lady?!" shouted Gilbert as he parried. The maniacal assassin screeched out in glee, grinning like a hyena as she continued to attack. Sparks flew as her claws struck Gilbert's sword, and if the mercenary didn't know any better, he would have thought that she was toying with him.

"I was one of Stratos' key employees!" she spat, pushing him further and further away. "I was one of his elite five assassins--class Super S! I'm normally called in to do jobs that are otherwise impossible, but in this case, I made an exception!!!" Shouting out, the demented woman lashed out at Gilbert again, nearly cutting his face open with a near-miss of her weapons. She continued to chase him around the room, getting kicks and vicious punches in whenever she could. This was not even a challenge to her.

"Just my luck," muttered Gilbert through clenched teeth. Growling, he ducked under her swiping claws and through some miracle, managed to slash at her face. A streak of blood erupted out of the woman's cheek, and she cried out as the wound stabbed at her. She suddenly went to the floor, groaning gently as she nursed her wound.

"How could you?!" she snarled. "How could you do this to me?! I'm a woman!"

"Yeah, and I'm a man, and _you're_ trying to kill me! Now I'm glad that we cleared all that up, but if you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone!" Gilbert sheathed his sword, and calmly walked away from the defeated woman. Suddenly, she screamed out at him, and dashed forth in a mad tackle. Gilbert was struck hard by her attack, and was slammed against the wall with the force of a wrecking ball. The Hell-Hunter was snarling like a rabid dog, her blue eyes on fire and her teeth bared.

"The Hell-Hunter cannot be killed!" she hissed through her teeth. "Many have tried, but they have all failed! I have slaughtered hundreds, perhaps a thousand people, so you will _not_ be the first to defeat me!"

"Things… change…" muttered Gilbert as the woman pressed him against the wall. It was clear that she was going to try and suffocate him to death--her claws were very much available to her, but it seemed as if she wanted to spare him a quick death.

"We'll see," breathed the woman, and she slammed her knee in Gilbert's back to emphasize the point. He groaned out in pain, but remembered that he still had a few tricks up his sleeve--literally. With a flick of the wrist, he brought out his hidden dagger, and blindly threw it backwards at the woman. She hastily dodged it, but not completely: instead of going towards her chest, it struck her right shoulder as she swerved to miss it, and a mild cry of pain came out of her mouth as she grasped her injury.

Gilbert was freed.

"Now let me go!" he demanded. The Hell-Hunter snarled, her breathing more terrible and slow than anything made in heaven or hell. It was deliberate and harsh, and full of frothing and cursing from the woman's part. The Hell-Hunter suddenly shocked Gilbert by yanking the knife from out of her shoulder, and turning her snarl into a smile as she prepared for another attack.

"What the--"

"Like I said," she growled, "_I can't be killed!!_"

"So much for that," grumbled Gilbert. "Hey, listen…"

"Enough talk!" roared the woman. "It's time to die!!!" And to Gilbert's amazement, the Hell-Hunter's attack actually _increased_, and the woman lashed out at him with a much more uncontrolled fury than before. It took everything he had and more to shield his life, and it was obvious now that all pretenses of slow death were out the window. Now, it was kill or be killed, and considering the woman's boasts, Gilbert would definitely lose.

He did manage to give her another cut, but the fiendish woman kept on attacking him without any regard to her own safety. It was as if she not only ignored the pain, but _enjoyed_ it as well. As sick and masochistic as that sounded, Gilbert had to admit that it gave her an advantage, and that he was very well doomed unless he could think of something.

"Hey!" he shouted as he parried her attacks. "Do you know why Stratos wants me dead?!"

"I don't know and I don't care!" shouted the woman. "The only thing I'm getting out of this is a paycheck! Your reasons mean nothing to me!"

"I was the one who killed him!!!" shouted the mercenary, hoping against all hope that the news would sway the attacking woman. It did not.

"Good!" she retorted. "Then I'm not wasting my time!"

"And do you know why I killed him?!"

"Lots of people wanted him dead!" she snarled, her claws dangerously close to his face. They attacked and parried again, and with a grunt, Gilbert told her the truth.

"…He… killed my wife," he said. "Stratos… wanted to speak with me, so… he killed my wife to get my attention!!" A pause. The Hell-Hunter glared at Gilbert through eyes of deep, calculating blue, and a flash of thought crossed her mind. Slowly, she backed away from her attack, and gazed at the mercenary through inquisitive eyes.

"…Really?"

"Yeah… put a knife through her heart and everything. I had just gotten back from the wars with Highland, and I was planning on retiring into a quiet life. It seems as if Stratos had other plans." Another pause. The Hell-Hunter, once a maniacal machine bent on savagery and destruction, combed her long golden hair out of her eyes and swallowed.

"…That's terrible," she whispered. Gilbert snorted.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Anyway, I sort of went out of control, and… ahh, avenged her, I suppose. Anyway, I've been on the run ever since, and… well, here I am." He crossed his arms, keeping that famous poker face of his steady as he waited for the woman's verdict. The Hell-Hunter, normally a vicious and merciless woman, let out a sigh and looked at the situation in a new light.

"…So are you telling me that you're really just another one of his victims?"

"I suppose I am," shrugged the mercenary. "I never wanted any of this. I just wanted to live the rest of my life with those that I cared for. Now, I'm a fugitive. There'll be no safe place I can turn to, no city I'll be able to avoid. I'll never see my son again either."

"Ugh, was he killed too?"

"No, I just put him in the care of foster parents. I pray to God that he's safe, but as for me, I'm pretty much a dead man." Another pause filled the air, and the Hell-Hunter quietly contemplated this new turn of events. It was true that she was a devilish woman, and that she killed for pleasure and for cash, but behind all that ice and fire laid a small but gentle heart, one that secretly longed for justice in the world.

The Hell-Hunter let out another sigh, removed her gauntlets, and bowed her head.

"I didn't know," she murmured softly. "If I had known about this, then I never would have attacked you. I was just told that you killed a man. I didn't know it was the boss, and I didn't know that you only ended his life because he ended your wife's."

"Little good that'll do," snorted Gilbert. "I'll bet it doesn't change a thing between us."

"You might be surprised," said the Hunter with a smirk. "I might be one of Stratos' elite assassins, but it's not like I'm in love with the guy. If you wanna know the truth, I was really only working for him because he pays the most, and nobody else liked the way I handled things. Believe me, mister…"

"Gilbert."

"…Right, Gilbert. Anyway, believe me: I would not have went after you if I had known he did such a terrible thing."

"…So, you'll leave me alone then?" he asked. The Hunter chuckled softly and shook her head.

"Oh no, not by a long shot. You see, this is the first job I've backed out of, and if I don't bring your head in to the other bosses, I'll become a fugitive as well. I can't kill you now, because that'd be too cruel and cold for my taste, so unless you feel like doing anything very illegal, it looks like we'll be running together."

"_Together?_" blurted Gilbert. He shook his head to make sure he wasn't hearing things. Did this hellish woman just suggest that they work _together?_ Wasn't she bent on killing him just a few seconds ago? And now she was telling him that she would be accompanying him? This was too strange!

Yet… Gilbert had to admit that the woman seemed genuine, and the almost-gentle look on her rough face told him that she really was sorry about his loss. Besides, knowing Stratos' organization, they probably _would have_ gone after the Hell-Hunter if she returned empty-handed. She would become a fugitive as well, so there really was no point in running from the mob solo.

"…You mean… you and I?" said Gilbert. The woman nodded her head.

"I don't see anyone else here," she said. Gilbert sighed, shook his head, and decided to take her offer. Even if this _had_ been a trap, as he expected, he could at least keep a close watch on his would-be executioner, until some measure of safety presented itself. So the two mercenaries shook hands on the deal, and from that day forward, they would be partners in evading the mob. The could not hide forever, even with their combined skills, but since they would be cooperating, the burden would seem much easier to bear.

"By the way," said the woman as they left the ruined building, "my name is Helga. Helga the Hell-Hunter."

"You don't have a last name?" he asked.

"That's all you need to know," she shrugged. "Just watch my back, and I'll watch yours."

"Can do," he said, as they walked away into the horizon together.

****

The End


	7. Squirrel of Steel: The Tale of Mukumuku

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Squirrel of Steel: The Tale of Mukumuku

Faster than a speeding arrow…

More powerful than a horse-drawn carriage…

Able to leap tall redwoods in a single bound!

Look, up in the air! It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's……

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Mukumuku, the Squirrel of Steel!!!

Mukumuku, the Squirrel of Steel, is a bold hero for the masses, dedicated to truth, justice, nuts, and the State Way! With a strength well beyond that of mortal squirrels, Mukumuku fights for those that cannot defend themselves! Yet the life of a superhero calls for an alter ego, and Mukumuku's is the mild-mannered Kyaro Park squirrel known only as "Mr. Cheepers".

Long, long ago (in squirrel years this was last month), Mukumuku's home tree of Maple was destroyed when the arrogant and proud council of rodents failed to see the oncoming loggers. Mukumuku's parents, Makemaki and Mocamocu, stowed their child away on an escape owl, and sent the infant Maple tree dweller off to another plant, just before their tree was cut down.

Mukumuku fell to the Kyaro Park, where he was discovered by two common squirrels. They raised him in a small Beech, where his abnormal skills in leaping and dive-bombing separated him from all the other squirrels. By the time he grew into an adult, Mukumuku, or "Mr. Cheepers" as some of the children called him, was ready to hit the big city--as well as ready to face a life fighting crime!

In the deep heart of the city, there laid the stronghold of a villain who was so diabolical, so nasty, so cruel, and so unflinching in the bright light of justice that he could only go by one name: Rex Toothor, the overnight-millionaire with a heart of ice and a gaze to match it. He is Mukumuku's mortal enemy, always on the lookout for ways to thwart that warrior of justice! But wherever there is evil, there will also be good!

Mukumuku flies through the air, using his ultra-super powers to save the citizens of Kyaro Park from the dangers that befall them. From simple jobs such as rescuing kittens stuck in trees, to using his powers to calm forest fires and defeat evil villains, Mukumuku fights an eternal battle and stands up for the valor he so believes in!

Although life in the Daily Plant is chaotic, and his coworker Lois Pain remains unaware of the secret identity of Mr. Cheepers, it is all part of the duty of a superhero crime fighter! Watch out, Rex Toothor! There's a new superhero in town! Beware, criminals! Your days of terrorizing people are over! Fear not, citizens of Kyaro Park! Your are under the ever-watchful eyes of…

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Mukumuku, the Squiirel of Steel!!!

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The End…

Or is it?


	8. The Greatest Teacher: The Tale of Genshu

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The Greatest Teacher: The Tale of Genshu

The sky was gray with clouds and the fields were gold with wheat. Crickets and grasshoppers whistled and chirped amidst the tall stalks, a few of them hopping around at times. There were a few trees dotted here and there, but for the most part, the entire world was covered in gold and gray, with the still heavens above and the glowing earth below. There was a little bit of wind that blew in from the east, tickling the grain a little as it danced across the grayish-gold world, and it would have blown forever if it hadn't ran into a wanderer.

Silvery hair and a blue kimono flapped in the breeze, but the man himself did not show any signs of slowing. He welcomed the refreshing, lukewarm breeze as a friend--a "fair weather" friend, one could say. He was, in fact, much like the wind, this traveler. He had a two-piece kimono, blue for his chest and white for his legs, and silvery hair tied up in a tail. His eyes were shut in concentration, and on his right hip, there hung a weapon. The man stopped for nothing, least of all the breeze that sailed past him, and continued to walk until he found his destination.

Suddenly, the stalks of wheat began to rustle, and from out of the bowels of topaz earth came a small score of marauders, each one of them armed. There were five in all, dressed crudely and unshaven, and a few lacked teeth, and one lacked an eye, and the rest were either missing a limb or a finger or some hair, and not a one of them was physically ordinary. They all glared at the traveler hungrily, a few drew weapons prematurely, yet the silvery-haired man stood still. He would stop only because it was impolite to walk past a person.

"Well well, looky what we ave' ere'!" snickered one of the men. "A reggilar ol' grampa, all alone by hisself in the middle'a nowhere! Hahahahaha!!"

The silvery-haired man said nothing.

"Ey! Ain'tchoo gonna say nothin'?" barked the bandit. Silence. The other four growled, and inched closer to the silent man. "Ey, old' on there, mates! Ow' do we know that e's even got any money on im'?"

"If it is material possession you seek, I have none," said the silvery-haired man suddenly. His voice was as calm and exciting as the skies above him, and just as emotionless too. The bandits snorted a little and took another step forward.

"Oh, so e' _can_ talk, eh? Well, then, give us all yer money ere', and we'll letcha go about your business!" The other thieves laughed a little, but the silent man didn't even make a move.

"I have a different proposition," he said. "Let me pass, and I let you live."

"WHY YOU LITTLE…!!!!" In a violent rage, the bandit that had done most of the talking lunged forth with his knife, intent on slashing the silvery-haired man to shreds. He was sprinting fast, and his knife was aimed directly at the other man's heart, but in two more seconds, he would be dead on the ground.

It had happened so fast that no eye could have seen it. One moment, the man was dashing madly, and the next, he was dead. In the stillness of the moment, only the heads of wheat and the swordsman's cloak and hair billowed in the gentle breeze. Nobody else moved.

Finally, the initial shock wore off, and the other four bandits leaped forth to avenge their fallen leader. The swordsman kept his eyes closed and gently fingered his sword……

__

Swipe! Cleave! Slash! Cut! Hack! Slam! Slice! Swish!

The only sound that was heard next was the quiet click of a blade being secured into its sheath, and the crickets singing in the background. Three of the bandits were dead, their clothed torn to ribbons, while the last one had wisely stayed behind. He gawked at the horrific scene, and couldn't bring himself to do anything except groan softly at the surprise of it all. Slowly, the swordsman turned towards the last bandit standing, and with one word, he sent the poor man scampering.

"Leave."

And so, the swordsman continued his journey…

Long past dull skies and shimmering fields, the swordsman made his way into a village, and into this village did he make his way into a small tavern, wherein he then proceeded past the drinkers and diners towards the bar. He came in without a word, and if he had not been dressed so peculiarly, he would not have been so noticed.

"Hot tea, please," he said to the tender. The barkeep grunted and made a face at the silver-haired man, but found himself shrugging and pouring the man a drink. The swordsman thanked him and quietly took a sip, earning the stern gaze of more than a few drunks in the place. Although he was doing nothing wrong, the swordsman was already becoming a target for scorn, just by sitting there. One of the more drunk men approached him, placing a large hand on his shoulder.

"Hey! Yeah, you! Wise guy! We don't take kindly to tea-drinkin' sissies!" The swordsman didn't satisfy the man with a response; he merely continued to drink his hot tea, waiting quietly in the corner. It is not usually a good idea to ignore angry or drunk people, and this man's anger was especially great.

"Hey! Don'tcha hear me talkin' to you?!" he bellowed. The swordsman merely sipped at his tea.

"I will only say this once," he said calmly. "Leave me in peace or I shall leave you in pieces."

"Say what?" bellowed the drunk. "Wha'dja say? Huh? Speak up, grampa!" The swordsman merely sat and continued to ignore the taunting that the drunk was giving him, and even though he knew that the encounter would lead off to a fight, he still tried to pacify things. Suddenly, with a jerk, the swordsman was yanked out of his seat and fell to the floor, and every unsober mind in the room began to laugh. The silvery-haired man slowly rose to his feet, salvaged his dignity, and brushed the dust from his clothes.

"Awwww, whassa mattah, huh?" sang the drunks. "Did gwampy-wampy faww down an' go boom?? AAAA hahahahahahahaha!!!" The swordsman sighed, and turned around to face the drunks. Even with them laughing at him, he still commanded a powerful and lethal presence, one of which--if the drunks recognized him--they would have instantly fled the bar as fast as humanly possible.

"I demand an apology," said the swordsman calmly. "I have done nothing wrong."

"Nothing except bein' a sissy ol' fool!" chortled the drunks. They erupted in a vicious laughter, and a few stepped forth to beat the silver-haired man even more. As the small gang of intoxicated men approached him, the swordsman opened his eyes, hugged the hilt of his sword with his fingers……

__

Swipe! Cleave! Slash! Cut! Hack! Slam! Slice! Swish!

……and in only two seconds, everyone that was previously harassing the man was now flat on the floor, stone dead. In the sudden silence, the swordsman went back to his stool and resumed drinking the rest of the tea, which had unfortunately grown cold during his brief absence. The man next to him whistled in amazement.

"You have some business to discuss," said the swordsman calmly. The man that had just whistled shook his head.

"Do you always do that sorta stuff, Genshu?" At the sound of the name _Genshu_, everyone in the bar let out a gasp, and in an instant, gave the swordsman and his new client an understanding amount of space to breathe. No drunk would be bothering him again in that place.

"…Only when provoked," replied the stoic swordsman. His client nodded his head quietly.

"…I see." His voice lowered again, and the shorter, younger man went straight to business. "…There's a vicious criminal on the loose, and I want you to make him disappear. He lives in City-State territory, somewhere around Kyaro town. The pay is thirty-thousand potch if you bring him to me alive."

"Double it," said Genshu, finishing off his tea.

"That's the price if you bring him in to me _dead,_" noted his client. Genshu sighed, stood out of his stool, and bowed.

"I accept your assignment," he said. "What does this man look like?"

"Here's a sketch," sighed Genshu's client, showing the swordsman a rough drawing of the target. Genshu discreetly tucked the picture in his cloak, said his thanks, and left as quietly as he came.

----------

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If I do not use my skills for profit, then they will simply go to waste.

Genshu, I must rebuke your decision. What you are doing is a disgrace to our family name!

No. I am honoring our name by using these skills that father gave me. This sword, his sword, has a power within it, and so do I, and if I do not use that power, then I will be no better than a coward.

I agree that you should use what father gave you… but for profit?

Yes… how else would you expect me to make a living? The sword is the only thing I know.

Please, brother… do not disgrace father's name any more, or you will one day live to regret it.

----------

Genshu stood, meditating in silence as he sailed across the lake. The waves were calm and docile, and a good wind was blowing his small boat towards Highland territory. The skies were gray, as always, though little rain seemed to come out of them. Genshu wore a conical straw hat to protect his eyes from the sun, but since there was no sun, he used the shady device to conceal his identity a little. After all, his face was a famous one.

He was now currently in pursuit of the "vicious criminal" mentioned to him by the man in the bar, and he had to sail this far to get there. Kyaro was quite some distance away from where he had last been, though it was but a single step in comparison to his hometown. But Genshu was a very patient person, and besides, the wind was very strong, and the waves were starting to rock in his favor, and the dark landscape before him was very beautiful in a haunting sense, so he decided to enjoy this moment.

Genshu docked in the first harbor he found, and sold his boat to the first merchant. Genshu was what many people would call a traveling assassin: he wandered from place to place, selling his skills to anyone with enough money, and left as soon as all job offers were over. Yes, he _was_ using his skills in a dishonorable way, but Genshu had long ago decided to live his life in the way he chose, and to not go down any other paths. He had gotten this far by himself; should he not go further?

From the small pier, Genshu walked the distance to Kyaro town. He had to go through several mountain passes: through rocky grounds, across steep chasms, over wooden bridges, and past tiny clusters of greenery that lived stubborn lives in the empty rocks. When his feet once again found fertile soil, Genshu still had many more leagues of grassy plains to cross over. A swordsman walking across endless fields of whispering grass might have been romantic if the skies weren't so bland, and if Genshu wasn't about to do something so disgraceful. He killed for money; that alone would bring shame to most families.

Genshu was a patient and deliberate man, and he made it to Kyaro with no trouble at all. It had taken him a little over a week to get from the bar to the town, but Genshu had all the time in the world. One way or another, Death would claim everybody, and Genshu had prepared his own soul ages ago. There were no guards standing at the gates, so he entered unseen and unannounced.

Perfect.

Kyaro town was relatively quiet for the middle of the day, so Genshu's presence there went unknown. The less people that knew that he was around, the better. Genshu walked down the long cobblestone road that split the town into two sections, and on his left and his right, there was a row of buildings and gardens. Genshu had memorized what his attacker looked like during his journey, so he would be able to find the man easily--_if_ he was still in the town. If not, Genshu would pick up a clue, wipe the dust off his feet, and move on.

No noise came from the city, except for Genshu's feet stepping lightly across the stone road, and a slow brook in the distance. He came to a bridge and crossed it halfway before stopping. In the middle of this bridge, looking over the side, was the very man that Genshu was looking for. The swordsman almost smiled with relief, but chose instead to use that energy on something more useful, like removing his sword from his sheath. The only time other people saw the weapon was when Genshu displayed it on purpose; it was invisible in combat.

"Excuse me," said the silver-haired man, and the person looking over the side of the bridge turned around slightly. "I believe that I have been searching for you for a very long time, and now that I have found you, it is time to end my business." With his naked sword visible for all the world to see, there was no sugarcoating what Genshu had in mind, nor was there any beating around the bush. Genshu's code bade him to take every approach in a quick and straightforward manner; anything else would be wasted time and energy. Slowly, the man turned around completely, and faced Genshu, though he did not reveal his face.

"So set are you on killing me," he said, "…and without even knowing my crime."

"Your crimes are not my concern," said Genshu, holding his sword loosely. "I am being paid to put an end to your life. That is all I need to know."

"Such barbarism is unbecoming," said the man with a click of his tongue. "Do you really hold such little value to human life?"

"No more than you do." A pause.

"Killers are themselves killed in the end," said the man, in an obvious attempt to escape. Genshu countered brilliantly.

"Death reaches everyone in time. My soul is prepared, but I cannot vouch for you."

"Then, do what you came here to do," sighed the man with a wave of his hand, and he only saw Genshu move a little bit before the sword ran through his belly. Genshu pulled the weapon out so quickly that no blood washed on it, and without another word, took the man by the collar and began to search for a wheelbarrow so he could cart the dead man back to where his client was. After all, to travel all that way without any proof of the man's death would be a waste.

But as Genshu lifted the dead man up, part of his clothes and his hat fell away, revealing a man who was definitely not the person Genshu had been looking for. No, when the man's clothes fell away, Genshu's eyes bulged open in horror, and his mouth hung open wide, and his fair skin turned ashen as he realized what he had done.

The man he had just killed had been his own brother.

"What have I done?!" hissed Genshu shockingly. The swordsman fell to his knees, his body so overcome with surprise that it could no longer support his frame. Genshu's hands went for his brother's body--sure enough, it was him all right. Genshu actually began to weep and gnash his teeth as he realized just how horrible a crime he had committed, and a ghastly memory played in his head, over and over again.

_Please, brother… do not disgrace father's name any more, or you will one day live to regret it._

"I cannot believe this!" exclaimed Genshu. "Are you saying that you disguised yourself as my enemy… just to show me the error of my ways?!" Genshu quivered sickly, and was so grief-stricken that all he could do was scream. In a sudden fit, he threw his sword away, and buried his head in his brother's bosom in a vain effort to gain forgiveness.

__

Brother… you have learned a very painful lesson this day… But please, remember that I did this not out of hatred, but out of desperation. I could not dissuade you from your path with my words, and I could not convince you away from your thoughts with my reasoning, so I did the only thing I could, and used my own life to steer you away from such dishonor. You have done your last heinous act, Genshu, but now it is time for you to end your selfish quest, to pick up father's blade one more time, and to use it as he--and myself--meant you to.

Please, brother… This is my last request to you…

"Great spirits of the other world…" Genshu whispered a shaky thanks to the winds that had carried his brother's final thoughts to him, and slowly, quietly, Genshu drew up to his full height, went over and picked up his sword, and placed it back in its sheath. Then, with the streets still empty, he took his brother's body and threw it into the river below the bridge, and watched as he was washed away.

"I understand now," said the swordsman, kneeling in abject humiliation. "Brother, I now understand the fault of my ways. If I can ever be forgiven for my crimes, then please, brother… please bless me as I rededicate my life, and watch over me as I walk the path of honor, and dignity, and righteousness. I will do as you would have it; not just for your sake, or for father's, but for the sake of all those that I have killed. Fare well, brother, and for what it is worth to you now, I thank you for what you have taught me." After spending a few more seconds on his knees, Genshu rose once again and left Kyaro town.

As he walked away, the gray skies above opened up, and then it began to rain.

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The End


	9. Clay Guardian: The Tale of Jude

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Clay Guardian: The Tale of Jude

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Dreidle, dreidle, dreidle, I made you out of clay,

Dreidle, dreidle, dreidle, now dreidle will I play!

"…No, that's not right…"

__

I want to make a masterpiece

Something that stands tall and proud--

A work of visual art, expressing

My innermost feelings out loud.

Michelangelo had his David

Ronin had his Thinker

The ancients had Venus de Milo

Now it's time for me to tinker.

I work here on this clay,

Stuffing the mud into a stove

I build and carve and construct it

And shape it up with love.

For a castle's Guardian Deity

Must be proud and strong and tall

It must invoke a feeling

To those that pass the hall.

It should exude some honor

It should make men feel bold

It needs some class built in it

Amidst the nickel and gold.

Mud, water, earth, and clay,

Mixed up right in a pot,

Stuff the sculpture in a kiln now

And bake it up real hot!

Burn the mix til' it's nice and hard

Make sure it does not break

Listen now, my student--

Listen, for goodness' sake!

I teach you what I know now,

Because your eyes shine bright

Tis' for the mold do you luster

Tis' for this pride, this right!

So heed all of my teachings,

Make sure you understand

For when the Clay Guardian comes forth

It'll influence ev'ry man!

And when you look in their eyes

As they gaze on your creation

If you see them wear a smile

Then tis you who'll have elation!

In other words, do good and you will have good done to you.

"…_Still_ not right!"

__

I've been workin' on the Sculpture

All the live-long day!

I've been workin' on the Sculpture

Just to pass the time away…

"…It might be awhile before I get this song right… Because after all, I can't work if I can't sing!"

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The End


	10. The One: The Tale of Yuzu

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The One: The Tale of Yuzu

Somewhere nestled in between a large mountain and a powerful river, there was a tiny pasture where one hundred sheep were kept watch by a young yet competent shepherd. The shepherd's name was Yuzu, and though she was no older than ten, it was her duty to keep watch over all her sheep, every single last one of them--100 in total. If Yuzu were to lose even one, even just a little one, then she would most definitely be in trouble. So even though the sheep were sometimes stupid, and stubborn, or ignorant, it was up to Yuzu to keep them all in line. After all, a shepherd who does not take care of their sheep is pretty much up for unemployment, and this was the only thing Yuzu was good at.

Yuzu was most definitely not a fighter, so if there was a wolf in the area, she would have to fight it off with a sling. Sometimes, bears and even lions came around, stalking the sheep and probably Yuzu as well, and the little shepherd would have to either fight them off or hope for assistance. She had stunned a bear before, and held her own against a lion at least once, so even though she was small and young, she would defend her flock until the bitter end.

One day, during the darker hours of the evening, a rumbling came in from above and light flashed across the sky. A storm was threatening to brew, but until Yuzu felt a drop of rain on her face, then the only thing it would become would be a threat, and nothing more. Still, the little girl kept a strong vigil: one eye fixed on the skies, and the other trained on her flock. Most of the sheep continued to eat grass, while some just twitched their ears and trotted around the fenced-in pasture.

There were only a few flecks of rain that fell, so the storm apparently had more bark than bite to it. It was terribly loud and a little scary, especially to a little girl standing out in the middle of a grassy plain with nothing more than her sling for protection, but other than the grumbling clouds, there was nothing to fear. However, the sky stayed dark, so Yuzu had to light a few torches so she could see better. As a precaution, or perhaps as a habit, she counted her flock and made sure that all her sheep were still there.

Her pulse increased a beat as she realized that there were only ninety-nine sheep there with her.

Yuzu quickly took a count of the sheep and found the same number, then counted them one last time to be certain. No matter how she looked at it, there were still only ninety-nine in the entire flock, which meant that one was missing. Yuzu yelped out a little, and quickly began to scamper away. She made sure that the fence surrounding the sheep was tight and sturdy, and with a little prayer in her breath, she began to run off in search of the one sheep.

For a shepherd such as Yuzu, losing even one sheep was inexcusable. The duty of the shepherd was to make sure that the sheep were fed and protected, and to lose even one would mean that they were unsuited for the job, and thus would have to find other means of employment. Yuzu was only a little girl at the time, so she could definitely not find another job. Besides, she loved to take care of little animals, and so it would mean double trouble for her if this last sheep was gone.

Yuzu sprinted as fast as she could over the grassy plains, calling out the name of her sheep. Her eyes were trained to spot the snowy wool from great distances, and since the fields of grass did not hide a sheep's coat easily, she should have found it. Yuzu's fears began to increase as she went towards the river, and she hoped against hope that the poor stupid creature didn't fall in the fast currents.

Suddenly, as she peered towards the river, a faint bleating sound could be heard. Yuzu looked over in hopes that it was her lost sheep, and in the far distance, she could just barely make out a spot of white against the dark shade of the mountain. Yuzu could have passed it off as an illusion or something, but she was not one to take chances and thus charged towards the spot with all her might.

Yuzu ran past her flock and took a quick count, and breathed out a big sigh of relief as she got to ninety-nine. Satisfied that none of her previous sheep had went astray, Yuzu gained some wind and sprinted off towards the mountains in search of the delinquent lamb. The closer she got to the mountains, the louder the bleating sound got, and the clearer the spot of white became, until she was at the very foothills, and the sheep was right above her.

Yuzu yelled for the poor sheep to hop back down to her, but it was already at a high distance, and could never make the jump without breaking some bodily function. Letting out a grunt, Yuzu began to scale the mountain, first by foot, then by hands and knees (she had to thank every holy figurehead in history that she was wearing long pants, because otherwise, her knees would've been scraped to death on the rocks). The climb was fortunately not that long, since the errant lamb did not get too far, and in only about five minutes, Yuzu grabbed hold of the sheep.

"Gotcha!" she sang. The sheep let out a bleat, and Yuzu rubbed her nose against its face. "Of course I'm mad at you for leaving!" she said, interpreting its noises. "What if you got hurt, or eaten by a big bad wolf? Yuzu would be very, very sad if that happened!" The sheep bleated again, almost in apology, and Yuzu giggled.

"Yeah… but I'm happier that you're okay! C'mon, let's go back to the others!" And with a smile, Yuzu hoisted the lamb over her shoulders, descended down the mountain, and led the little animal back to its brethren, singing all the way.

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"[…] If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go look for the one that wandered off? And if he finds it, I tell you the truth, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off." --Matthew 18: 12-13

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The End


	11. Fire Escape: The Tale of Mondo

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Fire Escape: The Tale of Mondo

Hanzo would have my head if he knew the truth.

The ninjas are experts at unmasking secrets and going into places that nobody else can. The way of _shinobi_ teaches that "impossible" is a word that "other" people use, whereas it is a disgrace for the ninja to utter. We are not strong, but swift instead--swift, and silent, and very, very lethal. Ninjas can uncover anything, but I thank the Creator of this world that not even Hanzo could unmask _my_ secret. If he did, the worst I could expect was death or expulsion.

You see, several years ago, I was not a ninja. No, I was spending my time elsewhere, in the--get this now--the Scarlet Moon Empire. Yeah, I was one of Barbarossa's lackeys, but if you want to get specific, I worked for Ain Gaide. Anyway, I was one of the better soldiers in Ain's regiment, stationed just outside of Gregminster. Back then, I had heard rumors of the hidden ninja village of Rokakku, but I never thought that it actually existed. Of course, since nobody ever _sees_ a real ninja, how could I know?

Since I was placed in Gregminster, I never really did get a good taste of the war that went on. There were eruptions in Panna Yakuta, Antei, Lorimar, Moravia, you name it--but almost nothing in the capitol. The Liberation Army was either very smart or very cowardly, though I was leaning towards the first option. No army, no matter how powerful they think they are, will have the guts to attack the capitol of an Empire.

When I got word that all five of Barbarossa's Generals had fallen (who knew where the sixth one was, though…), I really started to sweat. If the pillars of a house are toppled, then wouldn't the next objective be the support beam? Since Gregminster was the central nervous system of the Scarlet Moon Empire, it seemed logical that we would be under attack next. To our great disadvantage, the Generals that had held this Empire together were now on the Liberation's side, leaving us with only Ain Gaide, an unreliable man named Yuber, Windy, and the Emperor himself.

I liked those odds.

I liked the way things were going because I was no longer a part of that Empire, like so many others. It had indeed imploded upon itself, and although I wasn't the first one to leave it, I was definitely one of the many who did. See, right around the time when Kwanda Rossman surrendered, I received orders from the Emperor to attack and destroy the hidden village of Rokakku. The ninjas there held no loyalty to either side, but Barbarossa felt that if "Iron Wall" Rossman could change sides, then the ninja might be persuaded as well. Their extremely close proximity to the Empire's capitol city made them all the more a threat.

Ain Gaide led a legion of good troops in the attack, and although the enemy put up a terrific fight, in the end our strength had beaten their stealth. Oh, sure, we lost a lot of really good men, but for the most part, it was a victorious day. I myself was just one of the many men who even helped set fire to the place. Oh, Creator, if Hanzo ever found that out……

Luckily for me, I soon quit the Empire's service after the downfall of Milich and Teo. These two were very solid Generals, my own preference going to Teo, and I figured that if this steamrolling Liberation army could defeat three of the five Generals, then I had better consider whom I owed allegiance to. After all, I was no fanatic, I just liked to be on the winning side (naturally).

So, once Teo fell, I secretly quit the army (to make my disappearance more believable, I volunteered to go on a mission and "died" while on the job). Once I was out, I made a beeline towards the Castle on Toran lake, and I thanked any and all deities that nobody there recognized me. There was an uncomfortable amount of former Imperials there: Kwanda, Milich, Valeria, Alen, Grenseal, Humphrey…… ugh, I could go on forever!

I never contributed that much, and in the final battle, I chose to stay behind as a castle guard (because even though I now hated the Empire, I still liked my commanding officer, who was in Gregminster at the time). I got news of the Army's victory the next day, and of course I celebrated with everyone else. But once things had quieted down, I sailed away and made a path towards Rokakku.

I ended up signing on as one of the people who reconstructed the place, ironically. During this time, Hanzo noted that I had exceptional skills in espionage (hence the reason how I easily left the Empire), and offered me a position as a ninja. To be able to become that which I formerly fought against was a surprising turn of events, but needless to say, I accepted the offer, and three years later, I'm one of the highest-ranking _shinobi_ there are. In fact, I even practice a lot with the second-in-command, Kasumi.

And if you think Hanzo would be mad if he learned that I was responsible for Rokakku's destruction, just think how Kasumi would feel if she learned that _I_ had actually been the assassin that came to kill Lord McDohl!! Oh, I tell you, it's just been one great big leap from the frying pan into the fire for me, and who knows if I'll ever escape this latest blaze!!

****

The End


	12. The Good Son: The Tale of Boris

**__**

SPOILER WARNING!!!!! If you've never gotten Boris in your party, READ NO FURTHER! There are SPOILERS to that section of the game contained in here, so I advise _everyone_ who has never recruited Boris to PLEASE ignore this chapter! This means YOU!! For those of you who have him, you're free to read on! Oh, by the way, Boris is Ridley Wizen's son. I won't say how you get him in the party because that's a spoiler too!!!

The Good Son: The Tale of Boris

A dilemma: _can they empathize with me?_ I know how many people have sympathy for me, even though I make sure not to feel saddened or at a loss--I know that they all feel sad for me, but do any of them really know what I'm going through? Can any one of them really understand? Believe me, I tried to find people that could relate to my problems, and even though we were in the middle of a violent war, I had a hard time finding empathetic people.

Oh, I'm sorry. I really should introduce myself. My name is Boris Wizen, son of the great late Kobold chief Ridley Wizen. For most of my years, I have happily been following in my father's footsteps: learning how to govern a town, studying in the art of strategic war and of politics and the economy, and I took special great care in learning the language of humans and other non-Kobolds. You could say that I received a classical education in every field, and I daresay that if my studies hadn't been cut so short, I might have surpassed my father in a few years.

Sometimes, it's not easy living in the shadow of a great General like Ridley. I know that it's better than being a common mongrel who has no great lineage, and oftentimes my father's fame gets donated to me as well. "Why, look at you, Boris!" they'd say. "You're darn near as good a commander as your father!" Or how about this one: "That Boris, he's going to run circles around that Ridley one of these days!" Or how about, "Boris, you really should stop looking in the mirror all day! Ridley isn't concerned about looks!"

Don't get me wrong. I love and respect my father very deeply. My dream has always been to follow in his footsteps and to make him proud of me, and I _think--I think_ I accomplished this, but I can never be too certain. When he perished in that massacre (I'll call it what it was), I practically exploded with every single emotion ever known to exist, and then some. Once I heard the news, I went straight to Dunan with all speed, in hopes of receiving more information about his death.

What I got was something so heart-wrenching, even a Kobold such as I had to cry. My father's death was a complete waste of a good soldier--in other words, it _could have_ been prevented. The source of his untimely demise could be found in none other than (surprise!) the _leader_ of the Stupid Army, Riou! From what I heard, Riou simply lost the nerve to fight one day, and ran away from his duties with his adopted sister, Nanami. He made it as far as Drakemoth village before he was discovered again.

While he was away, terrible forces working under a powerful entity called Neclord had invaded the Tinto region, killing its residents or else sending them into a fleeing frenzy. Not even Muse's forces could help fight them back, and in the confusion of it all, the leader _runs away?!?!?!?!_ And my father was _working_ for him?!?!?! I wasn't just outraged, I was _enraged_ at the boy's selfishness!! The minor slap of pain he received from his strategist was nothing compared to the pain I felt when I discovered that my father had died for this coward!!!

Regrettably, now was not the time to be holding grudges. Neclord was still on the loose and there were other threats to the land as well. I was forced to hide my feelings of sadness and anger for the time, and decided to contribute what I could to the Stupid Army's cause. Since I had been studying all my life, mostly under my father, I could perform with as much competence as he could (at best), so in a sense, it was like he never left.

But I could tell the difference. Every time I looked out the window, I imagined what things would be like if he were still alive. Every time I led our courageous Kobolds into battle, I wondered if they felt any different being ordered by me, or if they were just honored to fight for "the son of Ridley". Hmph…… _the son of Ridley_…… I hate that title. That's all I'll ever be to these people. Just… "the son", and not my own person.

I was notably relieved to find that _many_ people empathized with me, but a few of these people I would rather not speak to. There was this little girl named Millie who used to talk my ear off about how she lost her father, and at first I liked being with her, but after the next 18 hours of listening to her jabber on, I could take no more and have since been successful in finding "other business to attend to" instead of listening to her. I was also approached by a young mage named Viki, who had forgotten who her parents were. Needless to say, after five minutes with her, I was ready to go back to Millie.

But more often than not, the people of Stupid Castle were supportive and caring. There were the survivors from North Window who each had a tale to tell (Sir Viktor talked too much), then there was the castle's chef, who had also lost a loved one. The aimless wanderer Hanna opened up to me when I mentioned losing Ridley, the circus performers told how their father had died, Lady Teresa had parental problems, General Valeria provided a welcome earpiece, Lady Ayda was a refreshing voice of reason, Miss Annalee opened up to me…… All right, so I was definitely not alone in this battle.

Deep into the war, I quickly befriended Sir Klaus, and for good reason. Right around the time we invaded Matilda, he had gotten word that General Kiba died in battle. The poor young boy was inconsolable by everyone in the army except for myself and another person whom I think liked him. When I heard the news, I invited Klaus to my room, where we stayed up all night talking about our deceased fathers, and how much we loved and respected them, and how we both secretly sought to make a name for ourselves.

After that moment, Klaus and I became very good friends, and would often hold friendly debates about the latest tactical strategies we had concocted. Sometimes, there would be other people who joined in our discussion, mostly Lord Shu and Miss Apple, though from time to time I had the pleasure of listening to Miss Emilia speak, or perhaps the youthful spark of Marlowe. But it was mostly just Klaus and myself, and I daresay that after that moment, all our strategies were usually a mixture of both our ideas (and were almost always successful).

The war eventually ended, and peace seemed to return to our land. At first, I was still doubtful about Lord Riou's ability to lead this new nation--after all, he _had_ been indirectly responsible for the death of my father--but after I heard him say that he was leaving again, my questions were all answered. The foolish boy never wanted anything to do with this army, nor this land! He wanted to run away from it all, just like he ran in Tinto! The young man disgusted me, and although I had been successful in hiding my feelings up until that point, I could no longer keep them bottled up.

I beat him outside and confronted him just before he left the castle. I was enraged at him for so many reasons, and I don't think that even he, the "hero" of the war, could stop me. However, the tired look in his eyes caused me to at least listen to him.

"And where do you think you're going, Lord Riou?" I growled (Kobolds have a hard time speaking without uttering so much as a growl or a woof, but this time it came as natural as breathing). "Are you running away yet again? Have you learned nothing from your grave errors at Tinto? Will other people have to suffer for your selfishness??" He merely looked back at me, a little sadly, and slowly walked past me.

"…Boris… I know you can never forgive me for what I did to you… but hear me out." He was right at my side, his eyes staring ahead, whereas I was still glaring at the castle. I turned around to face him and growled.

"What is it?"

"……This is so painful for me," he whispered. "First, I… I lost Jowy to that horrible Kingdom, then… then… N-Nanami…… she… she…" Riou paused, covered his face with his hand, and sat down to weep on the grass. The only comfort I offered him was a sliver of shade from my shadow.

"…Yes, I heard about your sister," I said. "And in a way, you now feel the pain that I have been feeling ever since I joined you. But…… nobody was responsible for your sister's death except for Gordo. She died honorably, defending you and your friend from death, whereas my father's demise could have been prevented!!!"

"…I know," he moaned, his body so weak that it had nearly turned to jelly. "And… I know you can never forgive me for what I did. Nanami wanted me to… to leave so that I… I… I could… maybe… find Jowy… Or at least I could escape from all this pain, forever, until I was strong enough to go on. But… I never was strong enough… And now I've lost both Jowy _and_ Nanami! I went through all that pain in Tinto for nothing! Yes, Ridley died for no good reason--but my sister did as well!!!" By this time, his face was flushed with a mix of anger and sadness, but the only thing I could give him was a civil sniffle.

"Then go, and do as you see fit," I muttered. "Leave this country to those that deserve to rule it! Take your bags and leave this land, and may the Creator help you if I ever see you in this land again!!!" Riou sadly looked at me, and without another word, he left. Sure enough, I never saw him again.

__

Father… did I do the right thing by joining the Stupid Army?

I… I hope you're proud of me, father.

Just… watch me from up there, father. I swear, I won't let your sacrifice be in vain.

And perhaps, one day, with your blessings, I might be able to forgive Lord Riou.

But I must never forget.

****

The End


	13. Stupid Cupid, Part Two: The Tale of Mill...

Author's note: As was the case with the original "Stupid Cupid" (in my first Fifteen Minutes story), none of these pairings are my idea (except for the obvious ones and the ones I liked). Everything was done by lottery, which means it's all completely random. With that said, there's going to be some yaoi and yuri in here, but most of it's in good fun. Don't take anything seriously, okay?

Stupid Cupid, Part Two: The Tale of Millie

Poor Koyu and Hoi were literally out of breath by the time they reached the laundry room. They had sprinted as fast as their thieving feet could carry them, and even at their magnificent speed, they almost didn't make it. Their pursuer was none other than Stallion, the fastest living creature in all of Stupid Castle, and while normally he would never chase people, this time the blue elf made a very rare exception. Koyu and Hoi had stolen something very valuable from him--so valuable that it merited a chase.

These two thieves had made it safely, though, but they had collapsed before they had been able to completely deliver the item in question to their client. This was no problem, as their employer wasn't so defenseless that she couldn't even walk the few steps from one side of the room to the other. Poor Yoshino had seen the whole thing, and while she would normally not let it disturb her washing chore, she couldn't help but look up.

"Are they all right?" she asked. Millie, who had hired Hoi and Koyu to attain the item in question, turned her head around and gave her usual brainless smile.

"Aw, they'll be okay!" she assured Yoshino. "They just outran Stallion. No biggie!" A huge question mark seemed to hang over Yoshino's head, but it disappeared as Millie squealed out in joy. "AAHH! Aaaahhh!!!!! That's it!! That's the thing I've been looking for!!!" The bizarre girl bent down and plucked what appeared to be a bow with a quiver of suction-cupped arrows, and slung it over her shoulder. She smiled at the thieves and gave each of them a well-deserved kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, you guys!" she sang. "Now I can finally go and spread good cheer and love throughout the whole castle!" Hoi and Koyu, who currently had hearts floating in their eyes from Millie's smooches, paid little attention to her as they laid in the grass; she, on the other hand, went skipping ahead, and started to plan her most devious scheme to date.

Put simply, this was the bow and arrows of Cupid. Anyone who got struck with the suction-tipped arrows would instantly fall in love with whomever they saw first, be it man, woman, child, or nonhuman, and Millie was in the possession of it. God help us all.

Millie obviously had several people in mind when she started her journey. She badly wanted to hook Klaus up with a nice girl, and Eilie would most definitely be happy with Lord Riou. Pico and Rina each needed a nice solid love interest, as did Sheena and Nina, and of course, she planned on getting a boyfriend for herself as well. Millie's quest was pure, but by the end of the day, she would most assuredly make more mischief than love connections.

Still, it certainly didn't stop her from trying. Millie's very first victim that day was Klaus himself, who was taking a relaxing walk just outside the kitchen. She figured that that area was the best place to find people--after all, almost everyone in the Stupid Army had to eat (excluding Gadget), so the kitchen area was the best place to be. Millie knew that Klaus was sweet to Sierra and vice-versa, so she hoped the cute vampire was in the area as she let her arrow fly.

Suddenly, Humphrey Mintz emerged from the kitchen……

"Whoops!" giggled Millie. "I guess I'll have to try harder than that!" Before poor Klaus could connect with the wrong person--the _very_ wrong person--Millie quickly distracted him with her pet Bonaparte. Humphrey passed without catching Klaus' eye, and a sigh of sweet relief escaped Millie's mouth.

"Huh? Millie? What's going on?" asked Klaus. Millie gave him an obviously fake smile and added a watery chuckle to boot.

"Ahh… hehehe… nothing!" she smiled. Klaus crossed his eyebrows and scratched his head in confusion. Millie wanted to try again, but without Sierra in the area, she had no hope. Thankfully, the adorable vampire was just coming out from the stage area, yawning her head off and muttering about how boring a pair of dancing Kobolds were.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as she saw the two. "Good afternoon, KLAUS."

"G-good afternoon, S-Sierra!" he managed. Sierra giggled playfully at him, and Millie saw her chance. She let an arrow fly in Sierra's direction, and was almost certain that the cute vampire would spot Klaus. But as fate saw to it, Hanna emerged from the kitchen just before the arrow could take affect.

"Aw, not again!" moaned Millie. Sierra was painfully close to becoming a lot more attached to the quiet warrior, and poor Klaus seemed to still be under the influence of the love arrow that his eyes rested not on the vampire, the warrior, or the little girl, but the scholarly young man who had just came out of the kitchen.

"That Koyu…" muttered Marlowe. "I swear, he gets into trouble more times than he blinks!" Klaus' eyes grew hearts as he spotted Marlowe--Sierra sighed dreamily as she gazed upon Hanna--and two extremely unlikely couples were made right there on the spot.

"Holy cow!" shrieked Millie. "This is getting out of hand!!!" Wanting to fix things as soon as possible, Millie fired two more arrows in the direction of each would-be lover. One arrow struck unfortunate Marlowe; the other hit the ninja Kasumi as she was passing by. In the confusion, Hanna had managed to escape, but not without giving Millie a powerful scowl.

"I'm really sorry!" she whined--but Sierra was sorrier still. Not only was she still pining over her "loss", but Marlowe and Kasumi were currently in a fight over her.

"She's mine!!" shrieked Kasumi.

"I saw her first!!" yelled Marlowe. Poor Klaus looked ready to cry as his former love interest fought with the ninja, and since Millie liked him, she didn't want him to be sad, so she let another arrow fly and for the first time all day, it hit its mark. With the determination of a warrior, Klaus shoved Marlowe and Kasumi aside, and gave Sierra a smile.

"……Hello, Sierra!" he said, just slightly out of breath. The vampire blushed lightly and gave him a sly glance.

"Hi, KLAUS. Hasn't this day been a _strange_ one??" Klaus' face turned quite red, but Sierra's became redder still as the young strategist asked her out on a date. Of course she agreed, and the cute couple held hands as they walked back to the stage.

"Yessss!!" cheered Millie. "I did it! I finally hooked Klaus and Sierra up! Awww, and they're such a cute couple, too!" She sighed dreamily, but didn't notice the fact that both Marlowe and Kasumi were now harboring a great interest with each other…

Millie's next victims for the day were General Valeria and her rival Anita. Although the two couldn't stand each other, they were most certainly entitled to have a love interest, and so Millie set about in amending such a grievous error. She found them at the bar--oddly enough, sitting right next to each other. It was a strange wonder why two heated rivals such as Anita and Valeria ever shared such close quarters with each other, especially since it seemed they liked nothing better than the absence of the other's company. Millie could've spent all day thinking of reasons why they sat together, but she had a mission to do.

With her bow taut and her arrow aiming sure, she pulled off two shots and hit them both square in the arm (the arrows had suction cups for tips, so they were hardly painful). She was hoping that one or the other would spot Humphrey, Rikimaru, or Amada--and if she was especially lucky, Flik and Viktor. The number of double dates they could go on was too irresistible! Unfortunately, they spotted neither Flik nor Viktor nor anyone else in the bar, except for each other.

"Ow! Someone hit me! Was that you, ya goody-goody?!" screamed Anita.

"Watch who you're accusing, harlot!" spat Valeria. Both women snarled at each other, and it seemed as if Cupid's arrows took that very moment to take affect. Valeria and Anita slowly removed their disgusted faces and smiled warmly at each other.

"……Anita…… uh…"

"No, you don't have to speak," whispered Anita. "I know… I know… You've been a pain and you want to apologize, right?"

"Of course," whispered Valeria. "I've been treating you so badly for so long, but you must know that deep down inside, I truly love and care for you…"

"Oh, Val…" Anita smiled dreamily, and the two rivals leaned forward to give each other a hug. Millie wisely snuck away before they could give each other anything more intimate than that.

"Oh well," she shrugged. "I guess they need some time to make peace. But who else should I hit???" Millie knew that the possible combinations for lovers in the castle was absolutely infinite, but if she made any more errors, then there would be Hell to pay. Of course, this _was_ Millie here, and before she knew it, she was already singing and skipping her way to more romantic pursuits, her pet Bonaparte squeaking all the way.

Millie's day certainly was busy, but hardly productive. She managed to hook up dozens of people, yet almost none of them ended up making any sense. Viki's pining over Ron Chan Chan was absurd at best; Pico and Genshu were about as compatible as water and electricity, and poor Amada was forced to explore the "other" region of love as his pursuits ended him up with both Camus and Jess. Millie tried to note that things could be worse, but she couldn't see how.

The "noises" that came from General Valeria's room could've been anything, and to the casual observer, it seemed they were either fighting physically or fighting verbally--or both. Millie's naïveté allowed her to conclude one of these theories, but the more "experienced" people in the castle had completely different ideas. Max and Tengaar also made noises, but on a completely different spectrum.

"Forward, milady!" shouted the old knight. "Forward into glory! Ha HAA!! Watch as I slay giants and evil sorcerers for you!!" Tengaar, poor sweet Tengaar, groaned in misery as the ancient warrior led her forward into another strange quest.

"Ughhh… Old man, you've flown off your rocker!"

"Nonsense!" he cried. "Why, this is for chivalry and nobility!"

"You could've at least recruited Hix as your squire!" she exclaimed. "What's the deal having Sheena along?"

"Trust me, babe, I'm enjoying this as much as you are," groaned Sheena. "I remember the same thing happened to me the last time."

"For real," moaned Tengaar. "But at least nobody's trying to hook me up with Meg this time around."

"Hm, that doesn't sound like a bad idea…" muttered Sheena to himself. Tengaar gave him a fiery glare and sneered at the poor boy.

"You just watch your mouth, mister! Or do you wanna get hooked up with Yam Koo again??"

"Eek, no, anything but that!!!!" he screamed. Poor loveable Max hadn't heard a single word they were shouting; he was still concentrated on charging forth into his delusions of grandeur.

"Whatever," shrugged Millie as she went towards other pursuits.

Sensing that Ayda was near, and Kinnison not too far away, Millie planned for her next big hook-up. She knew for a _fact_ that the young woodsman had a thing for Ayda, and vice-versa, so hooking them up would be easier than eating pie. Of course, Ayda's senses alerted her to Millie's presence, and a bow much deadlier than Cupid's was drawn.

"Easy, easy!" exclaimed Millie. "I'm just trying to hook you up with Kinnison! Honest!" Ayda still had her bow drawn and her arrow aimed, and doubtfully gave Millie a hard gaze.

"…I learned from my friend Quincy of just how innocent this business really is," she said. "Sure, it starts out fun, but lots of people experience heartbreak and sadness because of it."

"But it all works out in the end!!" exclaimed Millie. "See???" And with that, she let her arrow fly.

"NOOO!!!!" Scream as she might, Ayda could not stop the arrow of love, and soon hearts grew in her eyes. Unfortunately, it was not Kinnison that emerged from the trees, but Tomo instead. Millie shrieked out in horror as the nature-girl squeezed Tsai's daughter, and a quick arrow changed Ayda's romantic pursuits from the dark-haired girl to a more questionable mate, the inimitable Hoi.

"Dear sweet thief!" wailed Ayda. "How I long to caress your beautiful features!!"

"HEEEEY, looks like I finally got me a babe!!" grinned Hoi. Millie stuck her tongue out in disgust, apologized to the hapless thief, and tried Ayda again. Just then, Pesmerga emerged from the darkness of the forest……

Both Nina and Rikimaru were fighting a vicious battle over the same hapless cook; Hai Yo was screaming as loud as he could, but he could pry neither maniac off of him.

"I saw this man first!" screamed Nina. "Hai Yo and I will live forever in happiness!"

"No! _We_ will live in happiness!" screamed Rikimaru. "Hai Yo, I have fallen in love with your cooking!!"

"Ay! Then have some Ramen!" shouted the poor chef. Rikumaru almost literally dove into the noodle soup, and slurped up half the bowl in delicious delight.

"Mmm, mmm, scrumptious!" he sang. "Delicious! Wonderful! Superb! Never have I eaten such wonders!!" Hearts continued to float in Rikimaru's eyes as he swallowed down the soup, and soon Nina had the chef all to herself.

"No, wait!" she screamed. "I love Tai Ho!" The schoolgirl then went over to squeeze the poor fisherman… "No! Wait! It's Vincent that has my heart!" The poor aristocrat suffered greatly under her embrace… "Aiee!! Fitcher! My true love!"

"No, wait!! Clive! Dear sweet beautiful Clive! No! Killey! I LOVE the color red!! …NO!! Richmond! Yes, dear Richmond! Aye! No! Riou! Beloved lord Riou! No, Stallion!! No, Amada!! No……"

"I'm really sorry!" shrieked Millie. Ayda gazed into the face of her love and sighed dreamily.

"Don't be sorry, sweet Millie," she sighed. "After all, the fifth time's the charm…"

"But you need to be with Kinnison!" she shrieked. Another arrow slammed into Ayda's stomach, and the poor forester instantly fell in love with Sid as he came flapping by.

"My wonderful Winger!" she sang. "Come here, delicious sweet! Allow me the honor of holding you!!" Sid, who normally wore a skeleton grin on his face, laughed out loud as Ayda rushed towards him.

"Hehehehehe…… I guess I have that charm…" Millie smacked her face yet again, and shot poor Ayda with another arrow. This time, the hapless hunter's devotions went straight to Karen…

Tengaar, finally free from Max's clutches, went off to reunite with her boyfriend Hix. She certainly didn't need a silly love arrow to fall hopelessly in love with the would-be warrior, and as meek as he was, she knew that his love and devotion for her was unquestioned. The door to Hix's room was locked, and from the muffled noises on the other side, it sounded like he was actually training for once. Tengaar smiled at his newfound efforts and used a bobby pin to pick the lock. Unfortunately, as she opened the door, she did not find her love interest with a sword in one hand and a practice dummy in the other--though he was awfully close to it.

"OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!" she screamed. "HIX!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" Tengaar had accidentally stumbled upon her boyfriend and Lord Riou doing "things" together, and instantly became traumatized for life as she saw them…… well, without the aid of socks over their feet, or anywhere else. She screamed and slammed the door in horror, and wailed all the way to her room. Poor dear sweet Tengaar flung herself on the bed, buried her head in the pillow, and began to grieve with a power previously unknown to her.

Her sniffling and sobbing was so powerful that it caught the ears of Eilie. The kind-hearted circus performer slowly crept in the room, and her heart instantly went out for the redhead. Tengaar usually didn't cry, so Eilie could only guess that Millie must've been up to her old tricks again, and Hix had become the brunt of her attention.

"……Hey, Tengaar," whispered Eilie as she laid a compassionate hand on the other girl's heaving shoulder. Tengaar merely sniffled.

"…Yeah?"

"You wanna talk?" she offered. The redhead sniffled again and stuffed her head further into her pillow.

"…No."

"Are you sure? Is something the matter?" A pause. Tengaar's tears were staining the pillow, so she decided to turn around and address her kind friend.

"…It's about Hix," she managed. "I… I wanted to see him, but when I came into his room, he and Lord Riou were…… were……" Eilie's face immediately drooped down, for she too bore great feelings for a certain somebody, and to hear such distressing news must've been traumatic on her.

"Oh…… I'm so sorry…" She kindly drew Tengaar into a gentle embrace, and the two girls mourned on each other's shoulders. After they both had a good cry, Eilie slowly released Tengaar and gazed into her face. She smiled weakly and wiped a few strands of hair out of the older girl's face.

"Nice women like you shouldn't have bad luck in love," she whispered. Tengaar snorted up her tears, managed a smile, and thanked Eilie for being there for her. Slowly, the smile grew warmer, and their faces drew closer together, and……

"What the heck's going on??" questioned Nanami as she passed Hix' room. Not only were there "noises" coming from that place, but there were also "noises" coming from next door, which was Tengaar's place. Nanami couldn't figure out why there were such strange and funny sounds coming from them…… but then again, it wasn't her concern.

"Oh well!" she exclaimed. "It's none of my business! C'mon, Templeton!" And with that, she dragged the poor mapmaker over to her own room, where a steaming plate of stew was waiting for him…

"Sorry! I'm real sorry!!" Poor Millie had to literally apply a crowbar to snap Meg off of Kinnison, as well as another good yank for Jess to leave Ayda alone. She began to fire another arrow, but luckily, both foresters stopped her.

"Listen, Millie," said Kinnison, "I think Ayda and I can hook up together without your help."

"I agree," said Ayda. "After all, I was planning on asking Kinnison on a date anyway…"

"You were?" he smiled. Ayda smiled and nodded her head. "Well, I accept!!" And with that, the two inevitable lovers linked elbows and marches away towards the stage. Millie sighed and muttered something about how true love conquered all…… then was tackled by an overzealous Wakaba.

"MILLIE!!" she shrieked. "My one and true love Millie! Hey, hey, hey, is Bonaparte with you too??"

"Ho, boy!" sighed the younger girl. "This just might be a longer day than I originally thought!!!"

Indeed, the day turned out to be a very memorable one--if not a very strange one. For the majority of the day, Millie zapped people left and right with Cupid's bow, oftentimes causing more grief than she did romances. Kasumi and Oulan ended up being interesting but disastrous, Camus and Viki was three times more humorous and three times more terrible--Humphrey and Viki was by far the weirdest pairing yet--and Teresa and Jeane just never seemed right, either. Millie accidentally punished Koyu by hooking him up with Hoi, and it seemed Pico's flirtatious ways got the better of him when Vincent began chasing after him.

Dr. Huan, who deserved a lady-friend as much as anyone else, seemed relatively happy with Raura; however, Teresa's failure with Jeane ended up being worse once Apple spotted her. Shin literally ran for his life once he found Nanami pursuing him, and poor Jess earned the affections of both Sasuke and Max--although the latter was less painful.

"Onward, my squire!" shouted Max. "Onward to victory!"

"Does he do this all the time?" whispered Jess to Sheena. The younger man rolled his eyes.

"Nah, sometimes he's worse."

Of course, Millie also was responsible for making many successful love connections, as well. The shy Annalee and the meek Marlowe seemed just right for each other, and once Koyu recovered from his bout with Hoi, he gained the much-desired affections of Wakaba. Humphrey and Hanna seemed to enjoy each other's company--after all, they had _so much_ to talk about!!--and Viki and Connell made such an adorable pair that even Bonaparte seemed to approve of it. Vincent seemed most content hanging out with Simone (after nearly getting strangled to death by a lovesick Hanna, _anything_ was better), and Maximillian seemed overjoyed to have such an "important person" by his side.

Oulan sighed as she entered the library. Bob the werewolf had just ditched her for Lorelai, thus leaving her depressed and downright saddened. Oulan might've been a tough and powerful bodyguard on the outside, but she had just as many feelings as the next person. She really _had_ liked Bob, but it was not meant to be. Her travels led her to Emilia, who was also looking rather depressed over something.

The beautiful and intelligent librarian had also felt her fair share of love-stings that day. Not only had Pico passed her up for Karen, but Clive, Camus, and even Sheena had left her for other pursuits. She was glad her affair with Kasumi was brief, and Richmond briefer still, but now she was so lonely that she would even accept the gruff private eye into her company. As fate saw things, she and Oulan locked eyes at the exact same time.

"Oh, hello Oulan," greeted Emilia. "What brings you to my humble library?"

"I'm just trying to escape the outside world," answered the muscular redhead. "It's been insanity out there ever since that kid got a hold of those arrows."

"I know," moaned Emilia empathetically. "I got hit by a few myself, but most of the pairings were actually very nice."

"Oh? Who'd you get?" Emilia smiled as she listed off the names, and Oulan's eyebrows wiggled whenever she heard an interesting one. "…Well, my day was just as strange. The best luck I had was with Bob."

"_Bob?!_" shrieked Emilia. "You were hooked up with _BOB?!?!?!?_"

"Hey!" spat Oulan. "I happened to like him a lot! Okay, so he was a werewolf--but so what? At least I'm not chasing after Sid or Gengen."

"Amen to that," sighed Emilia. The two members of the lonely heart's club sighed and smiled at each other, and Oulan sat next to Emilia and gave her a friendly slap on the shoulder.

"Hey… listen… You're a very pretty lady, all classy and mature, and I'm sure a lot of people like you. But would you be interested in… say, a bodyguard? I mean, just in case…"

"Yes, I would," smiled Emilia. She and Oulan grinned at each other, and slowly, the two women drew closer together, and closer still, until--

"Bolgan like to read!" shouted Bolgan. He jumped up and down and started to memorize the alphabet. "'A' is for Apple, 'B' is for Bash, 'C' is for Club…"

After Millie pried Raura off of her, she stormed into Miklotov's room with a determined look on her face. By this time, Anita and Valeria would've settled their differences, so it was inevitable that they needed boyfriends. Millie knew for a fact that Miklotov bore a huge crush towards the General, whereas his counterpart Camus had eyes for Anita. The four of them would be absolutely fabulous together, but first, Millie needed to break a few of them apart.

"Aaah!! Lady Millie!!" Camus was also in Miklotov's room, "assisting" him with "things". Millie paid little attention to them, even though she had to admit that they were nice together, and forced them to… "put on a pair of new clothes" for their inevitable date with Valeria and Anita.

"But… but…"

"No buts!" exclaimed the brunette. "Now come on! Your destiny awaits!!" The two knights barely had time to get their… _socks_ on, when Millie finally dragged them out of their room and towards Valeria's. There were no longer any noises coming from the room, and since nobody had seen Anita since she and her rival were last in the bar, it could only be assumed that she was in Valeria's room--and thus the two had made their peace.

_They're sharing the same bed, so that must be a good sign!_ thought Millie to herself. She screamed out to the two, and woke them up from their afternoon nap. Valeria and Anita groggily rose out of bed, still looking rather ravishing, though in desperate need of a shower. She thrust Camus and Miklotov in their direction, and shot the four of them with a single arrow each.

"…Oh, Camus!" sighed Valeria.

"Miklotov, my dear sweet knight…" sighed Anita. Millie screamed at the mix-up and switched the knights around before the women knew what happened.

"…Uh, oh wow, Valeria, you look great!" sighed Miklotov. She blushed.

"And Lady Anita is always beautiful!" smiled Camus. She blushed.

"Yesssss!!!!" cheered Millie. "Two perfect couples, matched in the same day! Now I'm off to make even more people happy!!!" And with that, she scurried away, leaving the four warriors to get better acquainted……

Templeton smiled at Meg as he approached her, and the bizarre Trickster held back not a single tooth in her grin.

"I heard from a reliable source that you like to travel!" she said. Templeton nodded his head.

"Like? Like? Meg, I _love_ to travel! I'm a cartographer, so I'm always on the go. I sail across oceans, climb mountains, walk through valleys, and wade through swamps--all for the sake of my map."

"Oh, WOW!!!" squealed Meg with stars in her eyes. "That sound SO COOL!!!!"

"It is!" he smiled. "And I heard that you like to go on adventures as well!"

"DO I!!" The two young people smiled at each other with intense excitement, and a date was already set for the two new lovebirds…

Exhausted beyond belief, Kahn Marley sat himself down on a stool in Leona's bar, and let out a sigh. The day was almost behind him (and so were about fifteen would-be love interests), but he still had only a few hours left before he would be granted sleep. He motioned towards a rather expensive wine on the rack, and Leona smiled knowingly as she poured him a glass.

"Thanks," he said. A single sip and it was gone, and two more sips passed before he was ready to spill his mind. Thankfully, the bartender was a gorgeous and attentive woman, who was not only candy for the eyes but also a method of unloading the day's burdens. Kahn, like most everybody there, told her of all the failed romantic adventures he had been through, and she expressed the same.

"I didn't succumb to even one of them," she said with a slight boast. "Though many of them were indeed interesting. They were mostly too young for me."

"You're only thirty-two," he said. "That's still quite young in my book. _I'd_ be interested in you."

"You would?" she said with a raised eyebrow. Kahn looked up and almost apologized, but the smile on her face told him that it was unnecessary. He smiled back and poured his wine into two glasses.

"Yeah," he said, "I most certainly would." Leona smiled and winked at him.

"So I heard you helped in slaying Neclord," she began. "A vampire hunter kills the vampire, so what does he do after that?"

"I'll tell you, I came prepared," he replied with a smirk. "I'm planning on becoming a mineralogist once the war's over."

"Oh _really?_" she said. "Well, I do like a man who knows what he's going to do with his life!" Kahn smiled at Leona, and the two clinked the wine glasses together.

"Do you, now……"

The rest of Millie's day seemed to solely focus on wrapping up everyone's romantic interests. After seeing the flirtatious Pico and the flirtatious Rina suffer through a lot of failed romances, she decided the two would be perfect for each other and hooked them up, and she was dead-on right. Lorelai and Flik were also brought together--for the second time, she noted--and this time, it seemed rather permanent. As for Kasumi, she ended up with Tir McDohl, again, and the two seemed especially happy to be together (Millie noted that quite a few noises came from Kasumi's room, and she could only assume that they were not noises that would come from a dojo). At first, Jeane and Raura held a wild romantic interest with each other, but then Raura rekindled her love for Jess (poor Huan was "occupied" with Shu and thus could not enjoy her company) and Jeane found out that Jude gave the absolute best massages in the whole entire world.

Sasuke's crush on Kasumi ended in failure, but his newfound interest with Tomo did not, and the two hit if off without Millie ever having to even touch her bow. Also, the love-hungry Sheena and Nina seemed good for each other, and although Millie claimed that the connection was a success, people who saw them together had to question her decision. Nanami seemed a little more pathetic when she clung onto Futch and declared him "hers" (in quite a loud voice, to boot), but the young dragoon seemed to actually _like_ the attention.

"Dead man walking," muttered Viktor as he saw the young couple.

Hix and Riou held hands like young lovers as they walked through the halls of Stupid Castle; Eilie and Tengaar were equally intimate with each other as they strolled through the corridors, so it was only a matter of time before they bumped into each other. At first, there was a dangerously awkward silence hanging in the air. After all, Hix had betrayed Tengaar's trust by not only seeing another person, but also by seeing a person who shared his same gender. Love arrow or not, he had done something inexcusable.

"…Tengaar?" he whispered. His hand immediately unclasped from Riou's, and an age-old spark of love was fanned into a flame once again as the young warrior gazed at his one true love. The redhead was stubborn to his advances at first, but even her heart melted as her true love approached her. She let go of Eilie's hand, and the two embraced tenderly without even saying a word to each other.

Finally, after they both had a good cry, they smiled and stared into each other's eyes. Hix wiped away her tears and a strand of hair, and gently placed his mouth upon hers.

"I love you, Tengaar," he whispered before the kiss. She practically squealed in delight as he kissed her, and declared her own love once her lips were free to speak. Neither one of them needed an apology; their love was too big and great to think about the past. Without anything to say except for a silent smile, Hix knelt down and produced a box from his pocket.

"I already know the answer," he began, "but Tengaar…… Will you marry me?" The young girl gasped in awe, and knelt down to hug her beloved warrior. The ring fit her beautifully, and a thousand Yeses came from her mouth as the two young ones embraced.

Unfortunately, neither Riou nor Eilie had such a powerful bond, and their silence dragged on for some time. Finally, the leader of the Stupid Army stepped forth and opened his mouth for an apology. Eilie instantly silenced hi with a powerful slap to the cheek, sending poor Riou back a few steps. Hix and Tengaar stood up, the former holding the latter gently as they watched the two. Slowly, as Riou recovered from the shock, he gave Eilie an apologetic look and a slight whimper.

"……Eilie… I…"

"Shut up!" she shouted. Suddenly, she dashed forward, and hugged him fiercely--something she had never been brave enough to do. "Just shut up," she said, sobbing gently as she rested her face on his shoulder. Riou quietly returned the hug, and the two of them stood there in the hallway comforting each other. In the distance, Millie smiled fondly, and secretly wished the two of them good luck in the future. They both deserved happiness, and if things went right, they would most definitely get it.

Millie concluded her task of romance with one final, last encounter. She spotted Oulan tenderly holding Emilia's hand, and from the glow of the ladies' faces, it was fairly obvious that they were more than just acquaintances now. They were a very strange yet somewhat fitting couple, and had Millie not encountered two more people, she might have let them go. But as things went, Shu and Huan stepped out from the opposite end of the hall, also holding hands. The two men and two women bumped into each other, and awkwardly apologized, when Millie suddenly leaped out with her bow aimed and Bonaparte squeaking.

"Not so fast, you four!" she declared. "All throughout this day, I've been hooking people up left and right! Most of the time I made mistakes, but'cha gotta admit that I also hooked up a lot of people who otherwise would've never found each other! I'm almost finished, but I have four more people to connect before I can put this bow away!"

"Surely you don't mean us?" questioned Shu. "Huan and I are happy as things are."

"That's right!" said Oulan. "And Emilia and I are coming along very nicely!"

"Come on!" whined Millie. "This isn't right!! The Sword and Shield didn't make the world just for men to be with men, or women to be with women! It was never supposed to be like that! Guys and girls were _meant_ for each other! _This_ is just plain wrong!!"

"And forcing people to love other people isn't?" asked Huan. Millie blushed and grinned innocently.

"Ah, hehe, okay, I guess you got me there," she managed. "Okay, okay, I swear that I'll never use this again! But you gotta admit--you girls would much prefer these guys, and you guys would much prefer these girls. Admit it, Oulan! You've had a huge crush on Shu ever since you joined the army!" Oulan's face soon matched the color of her hair, and Shu's eyes were especially trained on her.

"And you, doctor!" pointed Millie. "Didn't I overhear you pine over Emilia?!"

"Well, I, uh…" For all his medical skill, the good doctor could not concoct a way out of this trap. He had indeed liked Emilia for some time, but he had never found the time to tell her. The librarian's face was as crimson as her "friend's", and Millie smiled broadly at the four of them.

"Yeah! See? You didn't need my arrows of love to know that! All you really had to do was look deep in your hearts and admit your true feelings! That's what love is!!" She smiled brightly, and silently encouraged Oulan and Huan to step forward and take their destiny by the hand, so to speak. The muscular bodyguard carefully approached Shu and smiled weakly as her hand clasped with his, while Huan still managed to keep his cool, even with Emilia around. Without looking back on their former love interests, the two new couples walked away into a brand new life together, along with all the other people Millie had hooked up.

"Well, that was sweet!!" she said as she stretched. "Right, Bonaparte? OH!!! Golly!! I almost forgot to get _me_ a boyfriend!!!" After briefly freaking out, Millie rushed back down to the grand hall as fast as she could, leaving poor Bonaparte to just barely cling on. She slid down the banister of the stairs and ended up right next to the tablets of promise--and to one of the few young men who was still unattached.

"LUC!!!!!" she screamed. The young wizard, who had experienced enough misery the last time a crazy girl got hold of a magical device that induced love, bolted out of the room as fast as he could, but Millie was a fast little thing, and before long, she almost had him. Suddenly, as he was dashing for the exit, Luc bumped into the very last person he had expected to slam into.

"D'gaaah!!!" he screamed. "LOTTE!!!! What're you doing here?!"

"Isn't it obvious?!" she squealed. "I came to see my Lucy-poo!" Lotte fiercely wrapped her arms around the poor wizard and squeezed the stuffing out of him, but was hotly intercepted by a very-enraged Millie.

"Huh? HEY!!!!!! What the heck do you think you're doing?!" she screamed. Lotte stuck her tongue out like the mature girl she was and held Luc even tighter, if that were possible.

"I'm giving my boyfriend a little huggly-poo!" she squealed. Millie nearly screamed with rage.

"But he's _my_ boyfriend!" she yelled. With that, she tugged on Luc's free arm, and nearly yanked it out of its socket.

"He's mine, loser!!" screamed Lotte, tugging on the other arm.

"No, mine!!!" screamed Millie. The two girls glared and cursed at each other, leaving poor Luc to moan out in agony.

"AAAAAHHHH, stop it!!! You're gonna rip my arms off!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"

Quietly, as the two girls fought over poor Luc, Stallion raced forward and grabbed the bow that Cupid had "loaned" him. With an evil grin, he jogged through the castle until he came to the elevator. He could only hope that Shin was still trying to run away from Karen--otherwise, his plan of getting Teresa to fall for him wouldn't work out that well, now would it??

****

The End

(Let's hope so!)

Closing comments: My favorite pairings might be slightly stranger than the norm. I like Klaus/Sierra, Hix/Tengaar (their relationship in the first game was better), Riou/Eilie (sadly enough, I haven't seen any of these), Tir/Kasumi, Anita/Valeria (but I like Valeria/Miklotov and Camus/Anita _much_ better!!), Templeton/Meg, Ayda/Kinnison, Kahn/Leona, Rina/Pico, Annalee/Marlowe, Koyu/Wakaba, Oulan/Emilia (I like Oulan/Shu and Huan/Emilia _much_ better!), Lorelai/Flik (she kinda looks like Odessa), Jess/Raura, Nina/Sheena (hehe), Sasuke/Tomo, and Nanami/Futch. Poor Futch. Poor Klaus. Poor Ayda!!!!!!


	14. The Big Burnin' Ego: The Tale of Zamza

****

The Big Burnin' Ego: The Tale of Zamza

My name is Zamza, and I'm quite possibly the best and most important person you'll ever see in your entire life. Not only am I an exceptional fighter, but I am also quite skilled in the art of magic--plus, I'm very good-looking, and quite knowledgeable about many things. For those poor fools who don't believe me, I shall present them with a multitude of reasons as to why I am as good as I claim--perhaps more than their pitiful minds can believe. Believe me, I needn't list every accomplishment of mine to get those doubtful people on my side.

Let me first make slight note that I was once a member of Lord Riou's Stupid Army--a name I partially disagree with, but I suppose t'was not my choice, though I was with him when he coined the name. This alone would hold merit to my previous claims, yet I, as a man of infinite reason and thought, realize that there are some who would still doubt my greatness, even as I explain away my presence in the Stupid Army. Very well--perhaps these impudent few need more reason hammered into their thick skulls.

Well, my only imperfection is the Fire Dragon skill I know. No matter how skilled I become, it always backfires on me--every single time! Yet there is a rune out there that allows this imperfection of mine to cease in existence, and it is called the Fire Sealing Rune, or something along those lines. When it became embedded on my hand, I was no longer a subject to flames, be it my own or an enemy's, and therefore my only imperfection was fixed.

My physical strength is another indication of my greatness. It is true that I do not bear the massive power of… say, a battalion of soldiers, nor do I have the sheer brute strength of… say, a cave of bears, but I very well come close to both. Answer me this--do you know any other magically-skilled persons with half the power of my own self? Think about it. I may very well be the strongest wizard you'll ever meet--at least in terms of physical power. Not only do my burning fists of rage hit an enemy once, but _twice_--twice I say again, and each time a scorching slap of uncontrolled power, flame, and magnificence! Aha, do I not sway you even now?

I see there are some out there who _still_ doubt my abilities. Well, let me place your questions to rest with this next little detail. I am most happy to say that I was chosen to be among the first warriors who engaged Luca Blight in combat. Not only was I one of the lucky fifteen, I was in Lord Riou's party itself! Obviously, his team would have to consist of the strongest, fiercest, and most able bodies in all of the Stupid Army, so _of course_ he selected me! And to add to that, not only was I in the front row, but the very center--quite possibly the best place to be! Ah, the glory!

Now start placing things together and you will see why we won against such a dreadful monster as Luca Blight. I _will_ admit that I would've had trouble if I had to face him alone, so I suppose even _I_ needed help vanquishing that beast. But allow me to boast yet again when I say that his wild attacks of fire did _absolutely no damage to me whatsoever!_ Yes, that's correct! I was able to utilize all of my wonderful skills on the poor tyrant, yet he was unable to do a thing to me, unless one factored in that beastly sword of his. So, in theory, I was quite indestructible against such a monster.

There are some who say that my skills became less useful once that nasty wolf was gone, but to those people, I say "HA!" My skills became even _more_ necessary after that! Did you know that the undead hold a particular dislike to fire? And did you know that I, out of all the wizards and rune-wielders, knew the flames the best? Aha! And did you know that, not long after our battle with Luca Blight, we were forced upon an army of the undead, which I did so brilliantly slaughter? Aha, yes! It was I who helped vanquish so many ruthless zombies, along with their vampiric king! Thus my magnificence is at long last proven!

For those who still doubt, allow me a brief time to scoff--no, a _long_ time to scoff. My skills do not end with skeletons and zombies, no! Not by a long shot! They continued! On, into the war, when a dreadful assassin attempted to remove Lord Riou from this mortal plane! It was discovered that this dark-skinned assassin had a penchant for using fire magic, and _WHOM_ would Riou go to in order to defeat such an antagonist?

Me.

(Yawn), and so, I became priceless yet again, and helped him beat this beautiful and deadly assassin. HA! Her flames were useless against me, yet mine scorched her body like the pools of Hell! True, there were other methods to her attack, but up against a powerful, charming, and skilled wizard such as myself, was there any chance of her succeeding? No, I am happy to say--there was not.

And so, in conclusion, when one adds up all the wonderful things about me, and all the seemingly-unconquerable villains I helped topple, is there really any room for doubt? But ah, being the wise man I am, I have already thought ahead and considered those too stubborn to listen to reason! Aha, fools! I have not yet begun to fight! For though my usefulness seemed to end once the war was over, it had in fact really only begun! Not only was I one of the greatest heroes of such a war, but I was even elected to be Supreme Instructor for the magically-inept (which I believe to be everyone).

Ha! Can you not believe me now?? _The_ instructor for novice magicians! It was _my_ skills and _my_ abilities that obviously prompted Lord Shu to beg for my assistance, and seeing the desperate look in his wise eyes, I decided to grace his livelihood and accept the occupation for teaching young mages. Now I have been given the honorable burden of instructing such low-class wizards, and it makes my humble heart sing to the heavens that I have been selected (out of so many, might I add) to perform such a duty! But, then again, was there ever a doubt in your minds? There was not a one in my own.

But for good measure, I must also include my dashing good looks. After all, a flower with great thorns, that has no beauty, is but a weed. My own thorns were these blazing hands of mine and the Fire Dragon, but of course the rosy petals are my own face and body. (Sigh), it is difficult to endure the hot jealousy of surrounding men! Day by day, they all give me an envious glare, wishing that their charms and grace were even half the equivalent of my own!

And needless to say, the ladies have no complaints at all! Why, just the other day, I received an anonymous yet eloquent letter from one particular woman who claimed to have harbored an interest in me, almost since she first laid her delicate eyes upon my frame! I could not blame the lass for her attraction--indeed, who could? I was only surprised that I received such letters from so few people, but the mere quantity of these letters, and not the number of people they came from, more than made up for the loss. Perhaps only a handful of ladies were really brave enough to admit their feelings (on paper, sure, but I _am_ rather intimidating!), but this handful seemed sufficient when one considered the _mass_ of letters they gave me! In layman's terms, I received a boatload!

Ah, and like a true dashing rogue, I was left to wonder who would send me such notes. It was obviously somebody of very high class--perhaps Lady Teresa or Miss Leona, and if I am not mistaken, I do believe that General Valeria might've slipped a note in the pile, as well. Well, no matter who dropped them by my door, it was clear that they all desired the same thing--myself--and that, as flattered as I was, I had the wicked privilege of choosing one out of so many. Perhaps, though, the ladies would understand if I affiliated myself with them all, but I am not so self-centered as to whore myself around. One rose can be as lovely as a dozen.

Well, friends, by now there should be no doubt in your minds, concerning my greatness. I have proved, through indisputable evidence, that I am a step beyond even the most fantastic wizards, for not only do I have the great skills and defenses that one would expect, but I am also physically stronger than any mage in the world, and I am probably better-looking, as well. I have been an integral key in fighting some of the most horrible villains this world has known, and I have even been given the honor of molding younger mages into a much finer image, though I daresay that maybe only one out of the whole lot will ever really exceed me. As difficult as it is to believe, there _are_ stronger fighters and wizards out there (i.e. Crowley, Mazus; Ron Chan-Chan, Morgan), but _never_ one possessing both skills.

So, in conclusion, I have lived up to every single one of my claims, and thus, there is really no reason why I should ever be out of the party's circulation, unless the strategy calls for something very specific and I am completely unable to fit the description. This rarely happens, as you can imagine, so in fact I should never be more than a stone's throw away. (Sigh), it is so hard to have a multitude of talents, but I do somehow manage. I am Zamza, after all, so I can handle it. I would not consider myself great if I could not.

****

The End

Closing comment: I'm not a big fan of Zamza myself, but I have to admit that he's bloody useful if you give him the Fire Sealing Rune, or whatever it is that nullifies fire attacks. Both Luca Blight and Lucia are pyromaniacs, so yes--Zamza _is_ nearly indestructible in those battles. Oh, and as for the person with the crush on him, it's Hanna. :o) But don't tell Zamza, okay? Poor guy would go into cardiac arrest if he knew…


	15. Beloved Aegis: The Tale of Oulan

Author's note: Warning! This story will contain a very unlikely and perhaps even unpopular pairing! I'm sorry, but the more I think about it, the more I like it--just like my Nida/Fujin pairing! With that said, the first "true" romance story in the Fifteen Minutes saga! Ladies and non-ladies, for your reading pleasure, I present to you…

Beloved Aegis: The Tale of Oulan

The closest thing that Ouland could compare herself to was a turtle. She was by no means a hermit, or an antisocial loner, so that idea was dismissed. She did, however, have a very tough outer shell, which was the result of genetics and years of training. Her parents were both warriors, one an Amazon and the other a Berserker, so her build was partially traceable to an earlier generation--but she also trained her body whenever she could, so as not to lose such a precious gift.

However, as a turtle is impenetrable on the outside, if one should break the shell, then they would find soft innards. It was the same with Oulan: hard and muscular on the outside, but gentle and kind on the inside. Of course, as many people were unable to see past the shell of a turtle, so Oulan exude a similar aura wherever she went. Not only was she quite tall for a woman, but she was also very muscular, and she had a kind of glare to her eyes that sent lesser people scrambling. She was as intimidating as they came, which caused many simple-minded people to stir countless rumors about her.

#1: _She's a deadly, powerful warrior._ That one was true--it was _very_ true.

#2: _She's butch._ Well, if butch meant that she was tall and muscular and intimidating, then yes.

#3: _She's an emotionless loner._ Not true. Oulan expressed just as many emotions as any other woman, and she didn't shine to privacy as much as other people. Oulan would never decline the company of another, unless there was some very good reason for it.

#4: _She's a lesbian._ Well, it was true that the only people who really admired her work were girls, and thanks to than silly "fan club" of theirs, perhaps a few unfair and nasty thoughts had circulated around. Oulan did admit that she preferred defending the female gender, but then again, it was usually this gender that _needed_ help more. In reality, Oulan had a sort of crush on a very important young man, but of course, since he was of high class, she didn't reveal these feelings. Oulan knew how to act professional, especially around the people she liked, so it wasn't like she was a hopeless romantic.

#5: _She's an orphan._ Well, if the definition of an orphan was somebody who lost their parents to natural causes three years ago, then yes, it was true.

#6: _She's too cold and hard to really care about anybody--she just does her job._ Definitely not true. While employed in the Stupid Army, Oulan gathered quite an assortment of friends around her--yes, mostly women, but several men chummed up with her as well. Oulan especially grew attached to Emilia, Hanna, and Wakaba, the former being something of a counselor in times of distress, the latter being a kind of pupil (whenever Long Chan-Chan was unavailable), and Hanna basically being an omnipresent friend.

#7: _She has a thing for Emilia._ True--they were an extremely unlikely pair, much like Marlowe and Koyu, but those two definitely weren't any closer than best friends, and so was it with the librarian and the bodyguard. "And besides," Oulan would say (oftentimes to Hanna, Emilia, or herself),"if those morons knew the truth, they'd probably all die from the shock!"

#8: _She has a thing for Shu._ True. Only too true…

This last rumor was perhaps the most unknown, as well as the one that was kept the best. Only the smallest whispers went around Stupid Castle, concerning Oulan's unknown "love", and most of those had been started by those crazy people whose apparent job was to bring one person to another in some kind of romantic connection. It was these same people who claimed that Koyu liked Wakaba (which was true), and that Jeane and Raura were an item (which was not), and Camus and Miklotov were lovers (also untrue).

But, unknown to everyone save the small few that Oulan really trusted, the whispers about her attraction to Shu were dismissed as silly and harmless claptrap. After all, there were a million and a half other "possible romances" that these silly people had concocted, many of whom focused on Lord Rious' preference or Lord Shu's preference, so in fact not a one could be believed unless backed up by the persons in question. And except for a small number of trustworthy people, Oulan hadn't told a soul about her "love".

When the redheaded bodyguard first enlisted in the Stupid Army, Lord Riou had just given Solon Jhee a royal kiester-whipping. He had earned the respect of South Window, Two River, and a few other locales who had suffered too long under Highland's oppression. Oulan, a professional bodyguard who had just stepped into unemployment, had also heard about Riou's victory, though never did she expect to actually meet the hero. When she did, ironically enough, it was when a group of nasty thugs had ganged up on him. Riou had apparently felt confident about his skills and thus surrounded himself with five beautiful women, which only helped to draw out the nasties of the street.

Luckily, a jobless Oulan was there to save him, and the encounter led her to Stupid Castle--and to one of her longest and most difficult jobs. Like a true bodyguard, she vowed to stay on until the very end, and then planned to either employ herself with one of the members of the Army, or else wander off elsewhere in search of gainful employment. Oulan was a powerful woman with a vicious attack, and she had a responsibility to use such powers in the right way, so it was the life of an Aegis for her.

She just never expected to find a "different" reason to remain.

Oulan met Shu on casual terms and thought little of the first encounter. As head strategist for the Army, he assigned himself to become acquainted with everyone Lord Riou brought in, whether they were known or unknown. It was these ambiguous people that Shu attended to the most, for he was a shrewd young man, and could discern between true friend and bitter foe. From what Oulan later learned from Emilia, there had been many questionable people that came through the castle doors, but many of them later proved their loyalty and worth. Of course, there were always people like Hoi and the Lampdragon Bandits milling around, and when the enigmatic Pesmerga signed on, even Shu felt uneasy about the encounter. Luckily, the figure in black armor kept mostly to itself, and the Lampdragons were quite reliable and trustworthy, and Hoi……

Well, four out of five wasn't bad…

As for Oulan, Shu apparently believed in Lord Riou's decision. When she told him about her profession as a bodyguard, the dark-haired man smiled and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"I wonder," he told her, "whether you can live up to your claims." Oulan had crossed her arms and gave him a blank stare.

"Do you have any means wherein I can prove myself?" she asked. Shu pursed his lips and thought about it.

"Lord Riou has suggested the construction of a dojo in order to physically train our troops," he mentioned. "Perhaps, with someone so obviously skilled in hand-to-hand combat now on our team, maybe it really is time to start building one. But as for your skills……" Lord Shu had trailed off, his brilliant mind bubbling up a way for Oulan to demonstrate her skills. Just then, Viktor had strolled in and complained about a stubborn boulder that had been lying in the hallway--most likely one of the last resilient members of the castle's former ruin.

"I can smash it up if you want me to," said Oulan. "All I'd really need is protection for my hands. I'm strong, but my skin would still break if it smashed up against a rock." Lord Shu nodded his head in agreement and gave Oulan some gauntlets. She then proceeded to lead Shu and Viktor to the aforementioned boulder, and then proceeded to smash it to dust. It did take her quite a bit of pummeling, and her gauntlets were terribly bent out of shape by the time she was finished, but it had been enough to convince Shu that Oulan lived up to her claims.

"Holy crap!!!" Viktor had squealed. "Oh, man! If she could do that to that big boulder…" The mere possibility of Oulan's strength dazzled Viktor, so much so that he took several humorous steps backwards. Shu, on the other hand, rubbed his chin and smiled.

"Fascinating," he said. "Miss Oulan, we should like to employ you as soon as we can. You obviously have a strength far beyond that of a normal person."

"Thanks," she said with a wave. Had he complimented her two weeks later, when she was at the height of her infatuation, the poor woman would've probably blushed or at least stammered. Oulan, tough as she was, had a tender spot for those people who could not defend themselves (hence her friendship with Emilia and subsequent attraction to Shu), and although he had the mind of a world-class strategist, Shu was anything but a fighter. He could hold his own when it came down to mental capacity, but in a situation that required strength, he was out of his league.

Of course, Oulan's affections for him did not run so shallow as that. She also liked Emilia for the same reasons she liked Shu (her relationship with Wakaba and Hanna were completely different situations), and there were many others in the Stupid Army who were also physically unable to fight--or at least unable to fight well (she recalled a friendly sparring match between Meg and Millie that led to nothing but hilarious disaster). But, just as she was different from the warrior Hanna or the swordsman Humphrey, so Shu was different from any other "defenseless" person she knew.

Yes, he was brilliant, and yes he was generally a good man, with a bit of an edge to him, but Oulan saw something in him that very few other people did. Perhaps only Apple really understood Shu that well, and luckily (for Oulan, that is), the girl with the golden-brown hair saw Shu as little more than a kind of big brother (and vice-versa). Everyone in the Stupid Army knew that Apple cared for Shu; this was a given. But Nanami also cared for her "brother" as well, and of course they weren't in love (luckily for Eilie).

What Oulan saw in Shu was not a struggle nor a sin that had to be conquered before a greater level could be achieved. Unlike some of the members of the Stupid Army, Shu did not have a depressing story behind his good looks, nor did he have a load of angst, regret, or trouble on his brow. Indeed, if ever there was a case for happiness, then Shu would be the one to exercise it. He was young, wealthy, brilliant, attractive, respected, important, and generally a good man with few problems in the world, save for his busy schedule. He had a definite strength to him that was rare in other men, and Oulan admired this secret strength of his.

But, then again, she had to admit that he was downright attractive, and quite the gentleman. Of course, men like Shu would probably be best-suited with another classy and sophisticated woman--like Emilia! (The librarian herself blushed a little when Oulan suggested this) Teresa Wisemail made a little more sense as a possible love interest for Shu, and perhaps if one stretched the possibility enough, Leona was as well. Women like Oulan couldn't possibly be seen with men like Shu (Viktor could easily empathize with the redhead).

So even though she knew that her admiration and slight infatuation would be left unreturned, Oulan continued to harbor her feelings and thoughts, leaving them bottled up inside. She knew that she was doomed to keep them in there forever, for once the war was over (it was becoming more and more inevitable by the week), she and Shu would most likely part ways without anything more than a thank-you and a farewell.

"Such is love," Emilia told her. "I of all people can attest to its painful sting."

"Ah, so do you have a certain person in this castle that's gained your interest?" smiled Oulan. Emilia's face turned a little pink, but it wasn't quite red just yet.

"Oh, nobody in particular. I can say that if a gentleman were to visit me here and ask me out for the evening, I would not decline, but no--there is no specific person here that I 'have my eyes on'."

"But you _were_ in love once," stated Oulan. Emilia nodded her head.

"Yes… Of course, it's only human nature to love others. There are definitely cruel people in this world, but I believe--naively, if you want--I believe that all people, deep down inside, are really working for the betterhood of everybody else. Remember, Kiba and Klaus were just two of the many righteous Highlanders, and from the scant details Lord Riou has provided, it seems that Princess Jilia is also a diamond in the rough."

"Yeah… Seed and Culgan are pretty hot, too," remarked Oulan with a wolfish grin. _This_ was the button that activated the red in Emilia's face.

"Oulan…!!"

"_Whaaaat?_ They are! Hey, I'm just trying to live by the old adage, 'Love thy enemy'."

"Oulan, I don't think the sacred scriptures meant _that_ kind of love," remarked Emilia. Oulan chuckled roughly.

"Yeah, well, why not? C'mon, admit it--you think they're pretty dashing too."

"I won't say a thing!" exclaimed Emilia gently, though her pinkish face betrayed her. Oulan smiled roughly, rubbed her unlikely friend's shoulder, and gave the slightly-older woman a wink.

"Ahh, don't worry about it. We can harbor a little bit of attraction to them. It's only natural. C'mon, don't be so stiff and formal. Of course, I'm not saying that you should completely give in to your desires--"

"And that at least is reassuring," smiled the librarian. Oulan nodded her head, and walked over so she was leaning up against the wall, right next to the door. She crossed her arms in a way that made her enemies run in fear and her closest friends relax in safety. Oulan might've been tall, intimidating, and powerful, but in truth, she was really as gentle as a lamb (a very powerful lamb, maybe, but a lamb nonetheless). She and Emilia got along so well because they were the yin and yang to each other: one was strong on the outside, one was strong on the inside. One was sharp-minded, the other was sharp-fisted. One was sweet, one was spicy, and they were both beautiful in their own way (no wonder so many rumors had circulated around these two).

"So," said Emilia after a long pause, "what are you going to do about… 'you know'?"

"Probably nothing," shrugged Oulan. "Think about it. Me and Shu? Get real! I mean, sure I like the guy, but do you really see me with him?" Emilia sadly shook her head.

"No offense, Oulan, but to be honest, I really can't see you with anyone."

"None taken, but what do you mean?" Emilia quietly swallowed, adjusted her glasses, and made sure she was going to say the right things before she elaborated.

"Well… would you be interested in, say, anyone here in this army?"

"Possibly," replied the bodyguard. "It depends."

"All right, let's say that there's a man in here that you like, but he's older than you--say, by ten years. Would that be a problem?"

"Not really," she said with a lazy wave. "I can handle ten years, maybe even more. I'm not too picky on age, if that's what you're thinking. I know Shu's two years younger than I am, but--"

"I never said anything about Lord Shu," said Emilia with a sly smile. Oulan grumbled darkly and snorted.

"Hmph… wise acre…" Emilia chuckled and let the harmless insult slide.

"So do you also have no qualms about a man being ten years your _junior?_"

"I don't think we should be pairing me up with a seventeen year-old," grunted Oulan. "I don't like kids the same way Hanna does. Make that nine years."

"Or whatever," muttered Emilia. "In any case, I suppose you'd have no problems if--"

"No, no, I'm not too picky when it comes to age," replied Oulan. "No old geezers, no kids. That's all." A pause.

"All right. Well, we've narrowed down the search a little. Tell me, Oulan, would you prefer a man like… oh, say, the legendary gladiator Morgan?"

"I hate to contradict myself, but… yes," she said with a smirk. "I'm always up for dating a legendary warrior-turned-priest."

"And would you also date a man like… oh, say… Zamza?"

"Blech, no!" groaned the bodyguard. "He's too egocentric for me."

"I don't mean like a narcissist, I mean like a mage."

"Oh." A pause. "Well, I suppose…… Uh, no, I don't think I'd go well with a mage. There isn't one person in this castle who is both magically skilled and mentally sane. Think about it--Zamza's probably the most normal magic-user we have. Luc is too sarcastic and scalding, Viki and Millie are sweet but utterly mindless, Jeane is a little on the strange side, and I don't even wanna talk about Raura!"

"Point taken," pointed Emilia. "Well then… What about Dr. Huan?"

"I thought _you_ liked him," pointed Oulan. Again, the button that made Emilia's face turn red had been pushed.

"Ehhhh, heh, umm… Just using him as an example! Well, um, uhhh… Would you go for, uh… Lord Jess?"

"Raura likes him."

"Viktor or Flik?"

"Viktor's sweet but a bit on the irresponsible side, and I don't think Flik's interested yet."

"How about Richmond?" A dark pause.

"I _hope_ you're kidding."

"Ugh, sorry… Yeah, you're right, he's a bit of a creep. Well, uh, what about Tai Ho or Yam Koo?" Oulan shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Emilia, but I guess I'm just a hopeless cause. …Oh, blast, you were right!! I can't see myself with anybody else, either!"

"Except for Lord Shu," noted the librarian. This time, it was Oulan's face that gained a pinkish hue.

"………Why you little…"

"Go ahead and admit it, my friend," pointed the older woman. "You like him. I'll admit I like Dr. Huan if you'll admit you like Shu."

"_Aha!_ So you DO--"

"Oulan…!" Emilia's stern scolding voice was enough t silence the powerful bodyguard, and with a sigh, she revealed her feelings.

"All right, all right, I'm very much attracted to him and all that nonsense. There, you happy?"

"You know I am," smiled Emilia. Oulan, for all her muscle, couldn't find the strength to smile along with her unlikely friend, and left the room shortly thereafter to be by herself.

Since Tetsu rarely allowed anyone complete privacy in the baths, Oulan just had to hope that nobody else wanted to use them. She was, after all, quite tired after her long day (she had been out fighting shortly before her heart-to-heart with Emilia), and very much wanted to both relax in a toasty tub _and_ be alone, and for awhile it looked like she would have both. As fate would have it, though, she would soon be joined by another woman--and out of all the females in Stupid Castle, the one that joined her in the bath was none other than Apple herself.

It wasn't as if Oulan had a rivalry with the young strategist. If Apple and Shu were romantically attracted to each other, then Oulan had two extra arms, so it wasn't like they were going to compete over the man. In fact, Oulan liked Apple a little bit. It was just that she was the wrong person to share a bath with, _and_ Oulan wanted to have a moment to herself, _and_ there was going to be a big battle coming up sometime in the future, which meant that the topic would eventually point towards Shu.

"Oh, hello," said Apple with a wave. Oulan regarded the young woman with a silent, curt nod, and tried her hardest to get back to meditating. The bath was hot but not unbearable, and definitely the best place to go if one wanted to relax, or to talk. Apple thankfully kept silent throughout her visit, and seemed happy enough to shrink back to a corner and splash around a little. Oulan almost never started a conversation herself, unless it was with someone she genuinely called a friend. She spoke only when spoken to, which left Apple the responsibility of speaking first.

"…You think we'll win this next battle?" asked the young lady suddenly. The tone of her quiet voice indicated that this was an extremely general question that could've been shot out at anybody, be it Shu, Oulan, Gengen, or Nina.

"I hope we do," replied Oulan in her usual husky voice. "It would suck if we came all this way just to lose."

"Yeah, it would…" Apple, who came off as more of an adult than a teenager, smiled just faintly as she agreed with the older woman. Then, the inevitable question popped up. "…What do you think Shu will have us do?"

"He's probably already come up with some wacky scheme already," muttered the guardian. "You should know him more than I do. If you put him, Klaus, Jess, Hauser, Teresa, Kiba, and Ridley together in the same place, they could probably think up of a way to take over the world." Apple smiled weakly at the failed attempt at humor, and Oulan quickly wished that she hadn't said such a silly thing. _Too late now. Ah well. It was just a joke._

"…So do you think we have a chance at winning?" asked Apple in that same general tone of hers. _Smalltalk… only smalltalk… Jeez, lady, I'm not just some faceless soldier that you can speak too! I've got opinions and feelings too!_

"Oh, we've got a chance, all right," noted Oulan. "Even if it's a million to one, we still have a chance. No guarantees or anything, if that's what you're asking. But yeah, we could win, just like we could also lose. It's all in how we fight--_and_ how _they_ fight as well." Apple nodded her head at Oulan's surprising wisdom (Emilia, Hanna, and Wakaba all knew that the redheaded guardian was a lot smarter than she looked), and seemed to find some kind of comfort in the older woman's advice.

"I see…" Silence once again overcame the duo, until they were joined by an extremely sober Anita--which in itself was a rarity, considering how often she drank. Poor woman put Viktor to shame at times (though not even the two of them combined could hold a candle to Humphrey's presence in the bar).

"Well, ladies, it looks like it's become a little popular in here," said the swordswoman as she slipped into the bath. Anita had the beauty of a lady and the strength of a warrior, whereas her temporary companions just had one or the other. It was extremely rare to see a woman who looked gentle on the outside but was truly strong when it came to skill, so Anita had her fair share of envious admirers. Oulan simply regarded her as "an annoyance with the potential to be a good friend"; Apple sneezed something powerful.

"Take care, little Apple," smiled Anita as she submerged herself partially. "We wouldn't want you to turn into a fairy on us, now would we?" No verbal answer came from the shorter, younger woman, unless one considered the slight groan she emitted.

"Lady Apple is concerned about the upcoming battle," mentioned Oulan in the same general tone that she younger woman had used. Anita regarded her temporary companion with that same mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Well who isn't? It's only one of the most decisive fights we've submitted ourselves too. Even old Valeria looks concerned, and I haven't seen her worry about anything ever since the Gate Rune Wars."

"Speaking of which, where is she?" asked Apple, who seemed to finally get rid of her bland, emotionless, generalized words. "Lords Shu, Ridley, and Kiba are gathering in the Great Hall, and since she's one of our main leaders…"

"How should I know?" snorted Anita. "I'm not her keeper. I hope she's alive for the sake of the war--I mean, I guess a fighter like her can contribute a _little_ bit to the cause--but for all I know, she could be dead in a ditch."

"Yes, that _would_ be unfortunate," muttered a voice from outside. Oulan didn't have to turn around to know who it was, but she did anyway. As if to mock her desire for privacy even more (as well as Anita's blaringly sober mood), General Valeria stepped into the bath with a towel around her hair and body. She gave her rival a civil glare before slipping in the water, and waded as far away from the other woman as she could.

"Valeria, where were you?" sang Anita in an apathetic tone. "Did you know that Miss Apple was looking for you?"

"Yeah, the meeting's already over," answered the General blandly. "We move out tomorrow. Ugh, and if you don't mind, I really would like to be alone for awhile. Unlike you, I actually have a duty to perform, so I need my rest."

"Hey, you take that back!!" snapped the blonde. "I might not have been promoted to Lieutenant and then to a General, but I can certainly hold my own against you! Apple! You tell her how much I've done for this army!" Apple meekly turned her focus to Valeria, who was giving the younger woman a reasonably civil stare.

"She _is_ a valuable asset to the army," reasoned the girl. Valeria grumbled softly.

"Right, whatever. Anyway, if you don't mind…?" Apple immediately got the point and scurried out of the bath to give Valeria her privacy; Oulan for the most part was ignored, which was (for the moment) a good thing, since she really didn't want to involve herself in more conflicts than necessary. The brunt of Valeria's attention had been driven solely on Anita, and vice-versa, and Oulan prepared herself should she have to break the two women apart before they decided to kill each other.

"Please leave," ordered Valeria. Anita gave the woman a nasty smirk.

"Hmph, I have as much right to be here as you do."

"I would like to be _alone_ now," stated Valeria in a voice so scalding that it made the hot water seem frozen. Oulan sighed, trying her absolute best to remain neutral in the age-old conflict. Personally, she thought the two acted more like sisters than rivals, and at times could be very cooperative. When they fought together against Luca Blight, they were nearly unbeatable, but competition was usually their goal, and sadly, their full potential almost never was unleashed. It really was depressing, but on a more humorous note, some of the crazy romantic rumor-spreading people had claimed that the two swordswomen were much, _much_ more than rivals.

"…So go off and be alone, then," sniffed Anita with a wave of her hand.

"I would very much like to take a nice, long, hot bath by myself," growled Valeria through clenched teeth. Anita made a face and sighed.

"Val… is the situation really that bad??"

"Worse than you can imagine."

"I dunno," sang Anita doubtfully. "I can imagine quite a bit."

"Please leave," sighed Valeria in defeat. Oulan, sensing that her usefulness was coming up fast, cracked her knuckles and made her presence known.

"You know," she said, "I can escort her out if you want me to. I'm finished here anyway."

"No," sighed Valeria, "if she's going to be stubborn about it, then I might as well go off somewhere else. Thanks for offering." The auburn-haired General slowly rose out of the steaming water, shivered a little at the air, and toweled herself off.

"You know, I can leave if it's really that important," offered Anita. Valeria turned around, and actually offered her rival a smile.

"No…… We've been through battles before. I don't think this situation calls for a hot bath, anyway. A hot _meal_, maybe…"

"Need some unwanted company?" offered Anita. Valeria sighed.

"Some other time. Anita, as much as I despise you, I certainly wouldn't want to see you die. I'm going to fight extra-hard tomorrow, so you should, too--that is, _if_ you think you can handle it."

"Are you kidding?" scoffed the blonde. "Just you wait, Val. I'll slaughter so many enemy soldiers that you'll have an orgasm." Valeria sneered at the last inappropriate word and hissed in disgust.

"Not exactly the imagery I wanted to have in my head at this time."

"I'm sure Sir Miklotov would disagree," grinned the warrior coolly. Valeria blushed a little.

"………Whatever. I hope you slip on a bar of soap and break your neck."

"And I hope you die of food poisoning." Valeria left with a nod, leaving Anita to soak with Oulan. The redheaded fighter merely shook her head in amazement.

"You really do care for her, don't you?" she said. Anita smiled slyly.

"Of course. Isn't it obvious?"

"Oh, painfully obvious……"

The concerns of Apple, Anita, Valeria, Oulan, Shu--everybody, in fact--were laid to rest once the battle was fought and won. Mere weeks passed, yet the steamroller that was the Stupid Army continued to press onward, from Greenhill to Rockaxe and then to the capitol, L'Reinouille. Oulan was one of the five people selected to personally raid the castle (along with Zamza, she had to note with a dry lack of enthusiasm), but before she ran inside with her sworn leader, she took one last look back at Shu, to see if he had any sort of readable expression at all.

Hope. That's all that was on there. Just hope.

"Hey, Shu!" called Oulan. The strategist paid her audience as she called out to him. "I'm gonna go kick some Highland tail now, if that's all right with you. Forgive me if I suddenly forget the definition of 'restraint'!"

"I understand perfectly!" he replied. Oulan smiled at him, though not in the way she really wanted to, and left to follow Riou, Zamza, and the other three people into the bowels of Highland's headquarters. If she never made it out of there alive, then…… Well, she would just die an honorable death.

_Hey, Emilia. Don't tell him anything if I don't make it, okay?_

With the war but a distant memory and the celebratory ball just a few hours away, the only thing Oulan could really do was sulk. The good news was that she would have a golden opportunity to finally reveal her feelings to Shu--_and_ the war was over--but the bad news was that she had to wear formal clothes. Perhaps the only other member of the army that had the same hatred of formal wear was Hanna (who was currently trying to curse her way out of being stuffed into a golden dress). Oulan was at least silent about the whole thing, but that might have actually been worse. She did look quite ravishing in her crimson-red dress, but she felt stupid.

"Hush up," hissed Emilia playfully as she pinned Oulan's short hair into braids. "You look perfect. Nobody will be able to resist you."

"That's not what my martial arts instructors told me," muttered the younger woman. Emilia chuckled and playfully stuck her muscular friend with the dull end of a needle, producing a sharp "Ouch!" from the strong woman.

"You little--"

"Ssh! Don't move or I really _will_ poke you by accident!" warned Emilia. Oulan grumbled and muttered, and left no expletive unsaid as she forced herself to go through with the painful ordeal. Most everyone who had fought in the war had been invited for the celebratory ball, except for those who were "too cool" to stick around. Lord Riou wasn't in sight, to the disappointment of many, but once Shu told everyone where he had ran off to, they all began to understand his reasons. Oulan was also glad that Nanami was safe and sound. Because she had been one of the people who actually went into Rockaxe, she partially blamed herself for the near-loss of the adorable young girl. Luckily, Nanami really was stronger than she looked, so that at least was come consolidation.

"This sucks big time," pouted Wakaba, who looked very adorable--and very feminine--in her cute orange dress. "I can't dance, I hate these snazzy balls, the food is probably horrible, and I can't move a muscle without feeling all stiff and scratchy. Why can't I wear my old karate uniform."

"Because," replied Teresa matter-of-factly, "this is a sophisticated, elegant ball. You really should thank Lord Shu, myself, and all the others for organizing it--and of course, who knows _where_ we'd be without sir Vincent and sir Simone."

"(Probably out having a _real_ party,)" murmured Oulan to Wakaba. The young girl giggled at her co-mentor's joke, and not even the quiet glare from Teresa could quite silence her. Hanna, poor Hanna, could only wear a permanent scowl as her own muscular body was slowly morphed into a more feminine one.

"You look fabulous," complimented Leona. Hanna's scowl grew.

"I wish I were dead."

"Now now, you might enjoy yourself." Hanna gave Leona a dirty look (which oftentimes was expression enough, whenever the warrior chose not to speak), but by some majestic power, none of the females really made that much of an effort to get away from the ball. Of course, on the other side of the dressing room, Koyu, Amada, and Rikimaru were having similar problems……

Despite their disagreement, the three ladies were shoved out onto the ballroom floor, and forced to mingle with everyone else. Wakaba tried to conspire with Oulan, as the young girl already had a plan of escape, but she received a shocking reply.

"You go on ahead," sighed Oulan. "I heard that Lord Shu's offering me a permanent place in the new country. I can't turn that down no matter how much I want to. You go on ahead without me."

"…But…"

"Or you could stay here," offered the guardian. Wakaba briefly considered her options, and for a moment she wanted to stay, but when she saw her master and Koyu both conspiring in the corner by themselves, she ultimately decided to join them, and together, the three of them snuck out the first chance they could.

"It's just as well," commented Teresa as she joined Oulan. "This really isn't the kind of place for a thief or a martial artist. They obviously have a more 'entertaining' event planned. I am, however, slightly surprised to see Lady Hanna staying."

"She's got a thing for somebody here," pointed the bodyguard nonchalantly. "I'm sure she'd never even look at this room unless there was somebody here she genuinely liked. I dunno. Me? I heard I was gonna get a position in this new country they're gonna make."

"That's right," agreed Teresa. "I heard that you were going to be captain of the bodyguards. You'll have your own regiment of students to teach and everything. It's definitely not the kind of thing my own protector is planning to do."

"I don't suppose Shin's here?" asked Oulan. Teresa nodded her head and subtly pointed off to a dark corner, wherein Shin stood hidden, watching the event like a bouncer. Oulan smiled as she saw him. "Well, whaddya know…"

"Excuse me," said Teresa suddenly, "I must go somewhere. I suppose you're not going to dance with anybody?"

"I certainly would if they asked me," replied Oulan. "I might not know how, but that's no excuse to be rude. Then again, I don't know of anybody who actually _would_ ask me, so I guess I'm safe."

"I know there's going to be some young gentleman who'll want to dance with me," said Teresa with a smile. "I'm positive that Vincent and Simone will ask, and maybe Lord Shu or Jess. I may even let Pico waltz with me for awhile."

"Yeah, right," snorted Oulan. "Knowing him, he'll have half the girls on his dance card before he even arrives. He's just like Sheena, only a lot more successful." Teresa nodded her head quietly, and excused herself again before mingling with everyone else. Sure enough, as soon as a song started, Simone was the first one to ask for a dance, wherein she accepted.

Poor Oulan was left to be a wallflower, along with Eilie, Viki (who had been too spaced-out to accept any offers), Hanna, and an impressive handful of men--most of whom looked as uncomfortable as Oulan felt. She caught the sad gaze of Tai Ho and gave him an apologetic smile and shrug. Before Oulan had time to sit and watch everyone else have "fun", however, Shu of all people approached her.

"May I speak with you in private, please?" he asked. Oulan, figuring that this was most likely about her new position, pushed her hidden emotions down and followed the young man. _Okay, Oulan. Let's be reasonable. He's an attractive, rich, respected young man who's happy with his life and currently single. He's also going to be very busy with this new country, since Riou is on his journey, so don't believe for a second that he'll have any time for you. This is business, Oulan, so don't hold your breath and hope._

"So what's up?" she asked. "Is this about my, erm, 'promotion'?" Now that Shu and Oulan were in private quarters--one of the many balconies of Stupid Castle--they could easily have a more private conversation, and normally, this was what Oulan had wanted. But after assuring herself that she had no chance of ever being with him, it wound down to another business meeting.

"Yes, it is," he told her. "Miss Oulan, your assistance to the Stupid Army has been most invaluable, and since you've contributed so much to our cause, and since you've been with us for so long, I have indeed decided to place you in a position where you will be most beneficial. Please note that you will most likely be working with your fellow comrades, sometimes in close quarters, even."

_Close quarters?_ she thought to herself. _Ho, boy. Oh, no you don't! Don't think for a moment that just because you're going to see more of Shu, it also means you can…… well… "express" yourself. It's all business from here, girl._

"I can handle that," she said with a nod. Shu smiled at her.

"Good, good. I… assume you already know where you'll be put."

"Yeah, Lady Teresa kinda filled me in," she said. "Bodyguard instructor, huh? Well, I guess it makes sense."

"I'm glad that there won't be any problems," Shu said with a smile. _Oh, there'll be problems, all right. I'll be in close quarters with you, and yet…_

"……I hope not," she muttered. Shu smiled one last time and shook her powerful hands.

"Well, I'm glad we were able to agree so easily. Most everyone else I've talked to either had problems with the new arrangements, or else they were completely against them. Of course, there were people like Zamza who assumed I only gave them that position because of their greatness…"

"You put Zamza somewhere?" Shu nodded his head.

"Magic instructor. I had to have _somebody_ I knew in that field, and out of all the available mages, his personality was the most normal." Oulan let out a faint smile, as the words of Emilia echoed back to her in an eerily familiar tone. Yes, Zamza was definitely normal compared to… say, Millie, or Mazus, or Raura.

"I see." A pause. Oulan desperately wanted to tell him everything she felt…… but it would've been a sheer waste of time. Shu would definitely blow her off--or worse, tell her "thanks but no thanks, but keep looking, and someday, you'll find the right person". Those kinds of responses personally made Oulan sick in places that even Dr. Huan didn't know about.

"Well, I must be going," said Shu, and he turned around to leave. Every last fiber in Oulan's brain screamed out for her to say something, _anything_, before he was lost to her forever. She decided to take a gamble, put everything in ante, and went for broke.

"Lord Shu?" He turned around to see what else she wanted. "Answer me a strange question." A pause.

"How strange."

"_Really_ strange." Another pause.

"…Okay. Ask." Oulan took a deep breath to prepare herself.

"I've always wondered something, ever since I first met you," she began. "Tell me, Lord Shu, what are the chances of a man like you and a woman like me being together?" Shu's face twisted a little from the unexpected question, but despite his confusion, he genuinely gave it some thought.

"I'd say that my chances with you might not be that great."

"I didn't mean it like that!!" chuckled the guardian. She paused, wanting so desperately to get her words right. "…What I meant was… what would _my_ chances be with you?" Again, Shu paused and considered the question before actually responding.

"…Oulan, are you _interested_ with me?" Smiling slyly, the redheaded woman decided that since she had pushed the envelope this far, she might as well go all out.

"Yeah," she said nonchalantly. "Why, is there a problem?" Smiling just faintly, Shu shook his head and took her weathered hand into his.

"No. There's no problem at all. Tell me, Oulan, do you know how to dance?"

"Nope." Both of them flashed each other quick grins.

"Then I guess there's no better time to learn than now."

"I could stop you, you know," she said as he slowly guided her back to the floor. Shu smiled knowingly.

"But why would you?" Oulan flashed him a very pretty smile, and for the life of her, she couldn't answer him.

****

The End

Closing comments: It's pretty obvious that Oulan is one of my favorite characters. It's sad that her character isn't expanded too much in the game (much like everyone else I've written about so far)! Why do I like her? Well, she's obviously very powerful (make her Berserk and watch her kill!), and absolutely drop-dead sexy, and it's clear there's more to her than meets the eye. I figured that she'd have a good rapport with Wakaba (because she likes strong characters) and she and Hanna do that Unite skill, and as for Emilia… well, Marlowe and Koyu are friends, so why not them? ……I'll be quiet now. Oh, and I'd like to see _more_ Oulan/Shu romances. ;)


	16. Super Ego: The Tale of Gantetsu

****

Super Ego: The Tale of Gantetsu

Denizens of Qlon Temple usually did not interfere with Priest Fukien's meditation, but today, he was out and about and enjoying the natural beauty of the quiet shrine. Master Fukien would take these peaceful walks every so often, usually by himself, and would allow his hours spent alone to be invested in meditation, thought, and prayer. Except for the daily visitor or the occasional crusading wanderer, Qlon Temple rarely saw more than five people in its dwelling, so Fukien could easily list them all off as he prayed to the stars above.

His thoughts wandered to Morgan, the blind gladiator who had renounced his warrior ways and traded them in for a priesthood. The dark-haired fighter was quickly become very in-tune with his spiritual side; perhaps his blindness had helped to draw out the light from within? Morgan, like Fukien, would soon be a part of the Liberation Army in but a few months, so he would have the rare ability to train both body and soul.

Lacking physical or spiritual abilities was Hugo, the Qlon Temple librarian. To make up for such a lack of skills, young Hugo was a mental man, specializing in histories and records and scrolls, which in turn helped Qlon Temple out. Fukien prayed especially hard for these two, for it was the youth who oftentimes molded the future.

But Gantetsu…

Well, Gantetsu was another matter in himself. Although he was the oldest priest after Fukien himself, and thus more experienced, Gantetsu was anything but a holy man. He and Fukien had been at odds for decades--probably even before the larger man ever set foot on Qlon's property. It was true that Gantetsu knew his way around "his" occupation, and could easily teach Morgan a few valuable lessons, but Fukien never seemed to believe that the taller man would ever reach his potential.

The thing was (and this was as simply-put as anything), Gantetsu was sort of an egotistical priest. He valued the strength of the body, which was okay to a degree (after all, the body was akin to a temple for the soul), but Gantetsu took his obsession beyond what scriptures recommended--indeed, he took it _to_ an obsession.

Spouting out burly phrases of "I am Gantetsu, a great priest!!!", and "I have the strength of 100 men!!", the large priest would make his way through Qlon temple and to the caves, where he would exercise his body and his creed. The caves near Qlon were forbidden to anyone unless they had the permission of a higher priest, and since Gantetsu had fitted that bill, he considered everything to be all right. He spent hours in that dark place, perfecting his own "religion" of physical power.

"Gantetsu," Fukien would say, "I do not completely disagree with your methods. After all, the body is indeed important, and like any respectable temple, it must be well-maintained. But your methods go beyond what is written, and I cannot agree with you."

"Master Fukien!!" responded Gantetsu in his powerful voice (even he called Fukien "Master"). "One must tone the body to face life's everyday demons! Just look to Morgan for your evidence! The man's nearly as strong as I am, and he seems to earn your approval!"

"If it is my approval you seek, then I would wish you to think otherwise," stated Fukien boldly. "I approve only those that have _earned_ it. Yes, Morgan is quite powerful, but unlike you, Gantetsu, he does not obsess over his own body every waking chance he gets!"

"So I like to keep in shape!" argued the larger priest. "I don't wanna end up lookin' like a decrepit old fogey! I'd like to boast about my muscles a bit when I approach death!"

"You are forgetting the entire purpose of your priesthood!" insisted Fukien. "Our lives are not dedicated to ourselves, but to the task of bringing others into the light, and to banish darkness, and to guide spirits into the afterlife. It is _not_ so we can boast about ourselves!"

"Bah!" snorted Gantetsu. "I will walk my own path, and you will walk yours!" With that, the muscular priest left Fukien's company, storming off elsewhere to resume his unique practice. Mentally, Fukien sighed, and whispered out a warning to his fellow priest.

"Remember, Gantetsu," he said, "the road to destruction is deep and wide and full of pleasurable sights, but the road to salvation is narrow, and few shall walk it. I pray that the light will shine onto your closed eyes…"

But as expected, Gantetsu's condition did not improve--at least, not spiritually. Sure, he quickly became quite powerful (though in truth, he wasn't _that_ strong), and definitely rid the Qlon caves of some very nasty creatures, but all the exterminations in the world couldn't salvage what was left of his soul. Gantetsu quickly developed a large ego to match his body, and soon literally thought himself as powerful as he fancied. Yet as time ticked away, more and more desires filled up in his mind.

He began to sin.

To a priest, wrongdoings are not darkly frowned upon like one would expect. After all, they too were human. Even Fukien fell short many times, despite his decades of study and dedication, so to sin was not sacrilege. But Gantetsu's wrongdoings went beyond what even a "commoner" would do. The man committed indescribable faults, most of them having their root in his insatiable desire for power, and soon, Gantetsu began to grow a little tyrannical.

"We definitely need to do something about him," said Hugo one day. Fukien and Morgan agreed.

"Yes… but what? All of our punishments would only bounce off of that thick head of his. I don't think this is dire enough to call for excommunication, either." Fukien, who had been rubbing his chin in thought this whole time, mumbled and nodded his head before speaking.

"Hmm, perhaps you are mistaken, Morgan," he said. "Perhaps… _perhaps_… an exile is just what we have been looking for. Yes, yes, perhaps we _should_ spurn Gantetsu from this temple."

"But Master! Does that not sound too cruel, even for his crimes?!"

"On the surface, yes," agreed Fukien. "But, let us say that this exile will only be temporary. We should throw Gantetsu into the world outside of Qlon, and allow him to go through the great Test that is Life itself. If he is truly powerful, and not just on the outside, then he may yet redeem himself."

"……I think I understand, Master," said Morgan thoughtfully. "But still… it does sound a bit extreme. Could there be a chance that he does not return?"

"Yes, of course," replied Fukien warily. "…If he does not come back, I suppose we should simply shake the dust off our feet and continue on. His loss will ultimately be nothing we cannot handle--after all, does he contribute anything now?" A pause.

"…He does perform a good job in that cave," mentioned Hugo. Fukien had to agree.

"Yes. But, as far as I know, that is the only good thing he is doing. Morgan, could you not take care of the creatures in his stead?" A pause. The blind priest mulled over the thought and allowed it to stew to a simmer before he gave his answer.

"I suppose I could," he said. "I should not experience any problems with such beasts. I was… trained quite well in Falena."

"Then, it will not be a loss," concluded Fukien. However, the old monk still had hope for Gantetsu, so he added another thought. "…But, think of what we may gain if he _does_ return? Would we in fact be getting something for nothing?"

"That does sound reasonable," said Hugo. "…But, all this talk of exiling and reaccepting Gantetsu… It is a bit sickening, I admit."

"Do not worry," assured Fukien. "I shall handle any pain that is caused. I thank you for your council. Peace to you both."

"And peace to you, Master," said Morgan as he bowed his head. He and Hugo went to their individual sections of the temple to study, leaving Fukien with the difficult but necessary duty of banishing Gantetsu from the temple. It wasn't going to be easy, especially if the selfish priest never considered returning, but it _had_ to be done.

Besides, a journey of self-discovery was exactly what Gantetsu needed.

****

The End


	17. Starving Artist: The Tale of Rikimaru

****

Starving Artist: The Tale of Rikimaru

I'LL GET YOU FOR THAT!!! NOBODY CROSSES RIKIMARU AND LIVES!!! I SWEAR ON THE LIVES OF ALL THOSE YOU'VE RUINED THAT YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS, YOU FILTH!!!!!!

……

……

……Oh man, am I hungry!!!

……I mean, _really_ hungry!

…I _gotta_ find somethin' to eat, or I'll die!

I'm starving! Famished! Hungry! Emaciated! Withering away! I've fasted too much! I'm delusional! Food!! ……FOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!!

Hungry… hungry…

This sucks!!!!

…Ah, ah! Is it true? Is it true? Is that really a restaurant there? …Oh man, it IS one! It is! I'm so hungry, I could eat everything in sight! …Now, lessee, where's my wallet…? Ah, oh yeah, it's right here in my tunic. Hehe, and full of money! I'll be eating well tonight!!

(Munch… munch… munch…)

(Gobble… snarf… snap…)

AAH! THAT feels better! HA! …Oh man, I was _starving!_ I musta eaten this place out of everything it had in stock! Well… guess I better get back on the road! …Huh? The bill? Oh, right… Now where'd I put my wallet…?

Hmm… it was right here, just a _second_ ago…

…No, I have the money… just hold on a sec…

Hold on…

Hold on…

…………

…………Uhh…

…I don't seem to have it.

…AIEEE!!! Thieves! There must be thieves! They musta taken my wallet when I wasn't lookin'! Those scoundrels! I'll kill them for this! They're gonna pay!!

…Uhh, yeah, uh, speaking of "payment"……

…Huh? I gotta do _what_?! …You're kidding!!!

…You're not kidding. Aw, craaaaaap……

Rikimaru's Rule #1: Washing dishes sucks!

Rikimaru's Rule #2: Always know where your wallet is.

Rikimaru's Rule #3: Never eat more than you can afford, no matter how hungry you are.

Whew! I finally finished washing all those dishes! Man! I thought it'd take me forever to get them all done! Heh, heh, I must've eaten up a storm in there, heh! Heh!

…Anyway, I guess I better get back on the road. Now, where was I goin' again?

…

…Ah yeah! I was going… "here"… and also… "there"… and over… "that way"… ahuh! Yeah, now I remember! Ha, my mind is better than any map! …Now, uh, time to exact my revenge! Yes! Hahaha! It's finally time I get you back for what you did to me, and all those others! I swear, on my sword and on my soul, that you won't get away with your crime! That's right, buddy! Rikimaru's here for you, and he's MAD! He's not gonna take your excuses no more! Prepare to be turned into shish-ka-bob!

…(Traveling… walking… seeing the land…)

Rikimaru's Rule #4: When traveling, be sure to carry with you all the essentials. Clothes and money, clothes and money, and a good weapon to fend off the bandits. Don't take food, unless it doesn't spoil. Ya never know how long you're gonna be travelin'…

…Days pass. Man! Nowhere in sight! Guess I'll stop on by the nearest town and see if anybody's gotten any word. I hear that lots of people stop in the bars, and since I'm kinda thirsty myself, I might as well go check the place out!

Hey, yo! Anybody seen… "this guy"? Yeah, he's… "this" tall, and looks… just like "this". He's from… "here", but he's been goin' everywhere, tryin' to avoid me! Say, while we're at it, can I have some whiskey? Just a snifter will do; I gotta be somewhere in a hurry.

Yeah, of course I got the money! See, here! Bahh, miserly old man… …Huh? Oh, uh, not you sir, I meant the guy I'm chasing. Yeah, he makes you look like a, uh, a youngster, and he's _reeeeally_ stingy when it comes to money, specially' my own! HA! Hey, did I ever tell you about the time……

Rikimaru's Rule #5: Never, under any circumstances, start a story while drunk. You'll never finish it.

…and then, I barely managed to get outta that place without my whole body bein' smashed to pieces! Yeah, it sure was a big mess, but I guess it was better that I got outta there than those other guys! Hehehehehehehe!!! …HEY, how about s'more whiskey?

Rikimaru's Rule #6: Never brag about something that never happened to you.

…so I started them off, but soon, they both turned on me! Yeah, both of them!

…but it was on the OTHER side! I had been pressing the wrong switch all this time!

…yeah, I definitely saved his life. Course', I'm in his debt now, but I dunno how he can repay me!

…I once caught a fish TTTTTHHHHHIIIIISSSSS big!!! It's no joke! Ask my buddy! He was there!

…and so, I said to him, "You can kiss my slimy, dirty foot for all I care!" And just to show it to him, I kicked him right in the head!!

…yeah, she definitely fell for me. I guess I have that charm!!

Rikimaru's Rule #7: Never brag about fish, fights, or women, no matter what kind of company you're in. TRUST me on this one!

…JERKS!!!!!!

Rikimaru's Rule #8: Don't feel too bad if you're suddenly kicked out of somewhere. You haven't lived until you're violently thrown out of a door.

…I didn't need them! I have my own vendettas to take care of!

…Oh, crap! I, I was supposed to be chasin' somebody down, eh?! Aw, man! Crap! Where, where am I? Honest! I, I dunno where I am! I'm lost! AAAHHH!!!

Rikimaru's Rule #9: Don't get lost. Period.

…Well, glad I finally got outta that place. I think I know where I am now, so I might as well continue my journey and catch up to that guy. …Uh, where was he headed to again? Oh yeah, up north… Well, I'm not really in a rush--after all, revenge is a dish best served cold--so I figure I might as well enjoy the scenery while I can. Those places up north are where all the cities and towns are, with no grass or trees or mountains or anything. Just some lousy technology and buildings! Peh! Might's well take advantage of all this!

…Whew! Traveling is hard work! Better rest for awhile!!

…Hey, it's gettin' pretty dark out here. Ah well, might as well call it a night.

(HUUAAAAAAAHHHH… sleeeeeepy!!!)

Rikimaru's Rule #10: Never go to bed without first knowing what the weather will be like.

…Huh? Water?

…The tent! It's all wet!!!!!

…

…

…

…

…RAIN!? It's been raining all this time! I, I've been asleep……

(Crap… I'm such an ignoramus…)

Well, I… I needed a shower anyway! …Yeah, that's it! (sniff, sniff) Pshew! Boy! Whee! …Yeah, I needed a shower! …Well, no time like the present! Just open the flaps and…

……!!!!!!! AAAAAH!!! It's freezing!!!! The weather, it's…… d'gaaaaaaaaahhh!!!

Rikimaru's Rule #11: Never go anywhere cold wearing light clothes. The same applies for warm places.

Ughn, I'm s-starting to th-think that th-this m-may n-not b-be w-worth th-the trip…

…Heh, heh, heh, heh…

…Hey, I j-just th-thought of somethin'! What if… _he's_ freezing too? …Yeah! He's gotta be shiverin' like a lil' kid! Heh, heh, heh… yeah! Yeah! He's just as cold as I am--probably. Hopefully. …I think. Ehh, who cares? _I'm_ the one who's freezing out here! And in this rain! And wearing nothing but this _stupid_ tunic! Huh! What a gyp!

…Ugh, oh man… I-I'm so hungry… I-I could eat a skunk… a bear… a lizard… a, a cat! A dog! A, a, a porcupine! Ugh, I'm so hungry I could eat a porcupine, quills and all! …Food… fooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood……

So hungry… so huuuuuuuuuuuuuuungry… Can't… even… moooooooooove…

Gonna keel over!

__

Ker-plop!

This is the end! The end of Rikimaru! And I never got to find out where that… that _guy_ was! I never got to avenge those people, OR myself! I, I, I…… Oh, man! This sucks!

Rikimaru's Rule #12: Life sometimes just plain sucks.

…(sniff)

…(sniff-sniff)

…Is that food I smell?

…(SNIFF!!!)

…It IS food! FOOD! I, I'm saved! Saved by the nose! URRRRGGGHHH, gotta get up! Gotta get there, fast! Can't… go on… much… longer!!!!

FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!!

(munch, munch, munch, munch!!!)

(gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!!!)

(snarf, snap, swallow, slurp!!!)

…………

(BBBBBBBUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPP!!!!!!)

WHEW!!!! Oh, MAN!!!! That hit the spot!!! M-m-m-m-man! I-I feel like I can do anything now! Yep, yep, now he'd better watch out, cuz' I'm back to full strength and ready to take him on!!!

…Bill? Money? Oh, yeah, sure, uh, right here…

Rikimaru's Rule #13: No matter how many rules there exist in the world, always remember the most important one of them all. You get that one right, and you're set for life. This one is, of course, the most basic rule of them all, so pay attention. No matter what you hear, or what you're led to believe, always remember to keep your wallet in a safe place, and that washing dirty dishes sucks.

****

The End


	18. Pinkerton's Proudest: The Tale of Richmo...

Author's Note: Obviously, I had to dig really deep to write a story about Richmond. It's quite hard to spy on a spy, so to speak, but it _can_ be done. Fortunately, I was able to uncover one of his more famous escapades, and thus came up with an easy, erm, "report".

Pinkerton's Proudest: The Tale of Richmond

It was the kind of Thursday that made you wish that Thursdays were never invented, the kind you saw whenever things were at their darkest. It was a bleak Thursday morning in Radat, and would probably stay that way all throughout the day--dark and rainy, and really gritty. _Really_ gritty. It was a nasty, filthy, smoking sort of day that made you depressed just to think about it, the kind that made you want to bundle up in an overcoat, light up a weed, and forget about Thursdays or rain.

I was working my usual precinct, nothing fancy. I do whatever I can to get by, make a living, see the world. It's not always an honest job, and it's definitely not the glamorous one that all the novels make it out to be, but it's the profession I chose. Like I said, it was a dark and dreary Thursday morning, the kind you can't help but hate, and on this particular dead-end day, I got a call to come in and investigate one of my simplest yet most difficult cases.

I had to take a carriage outside of Radat, and went as far as South Window, but I figured that the desperate plea in the letter I got was worth it. There was this broad, see, and she had heard of how effective I was in ways of investigations--but then again, a lot of people hear about you in a place like Radat, specially in the more undesirable locations. Anyway, this broad had a case for me, and since the pay was good and she sounded really distressed, I decided to take a bit of my time to check things out.

Se didn't give too many specifics about the case, but I knew it concerned a childhood sweetheart of hers, the kind that most women'll refuse to admit they liked. I heard that he was this real sweet guy, a real pansy if you ask me, and that he wouldn't hurt a fly, and so on and so forth. My constitution sure was challenged on the way there, and I figured it would come under vicious attack even later into the day. The fog and rain of this endless dark Thursday sure didn't help any.

I got to Radat with time to spare, but I found my client waiting at our prearranged site anyway. She ran over to me as quickly as possible, with this helpless look on her face, and begged me to help her out. I says to her, "Hey, sweetheart, ya got Richmond right here! There ain't no case I can't handle!" But then, she says that the police have already looked into the case, and they already got some kind of conclusion. So of course I had to wonder, if it's all wrapped up, why ask me?

She then goes into this blubbery tirade about how they're mistaken and her boyfriend's innocent and all this trash. I just let it slip into one ear and out the other, but just to show that I ain't all apathetic, I says to her that I'll do my best, and that she don't have to worry no more. I says to her, "Take me to the scene of the crime, missy, and I'll see what I can do." So she does.

It wasn't as nasty as I was hoping it would be, and just from a brief observation, I could already tell why the cops closed it so suddenly. There was a body of a middle-aged man there, her boyfriend's father, and a cudgel right next to his head. I also noticed that the fatal blow had been right smack dab on the back end of his skull, almost where the neck meets the head. He looked to have been bludgeoned to death, most likely from the rear or when his back was turned. Yeah, definitely murder.

I says to the girl, "What's the whole story on this?" And so she begins talking, and I take out my pencil and pad and start writing. Her story was this big long mess that had her, her father, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend's father all mixed up together, but I tried my best to make sense of it. Her boyfriend had had a little talk with his father, who must've been angry or enraged about something, and the two were arguing like cats, and the boyfriend had raised his hand as if to strike the father, but got out of there before anything could happen.

She also says that the boyfriend heard his father screaming a little while later, and came rushing back to see him near death. The father muttered something about a rat and died, and that's the last we see of him. The girl also said that her boyfriend took that cudgel with him when he went to see his father, like he was gonna smack him with it or something. In a nutshell, this was the case. Patricide. Man! Gonna be one of those days.

Of course, the cops said that the boyfriend killed his father, because of the argument and the weapon and the injuries. I honestly can't blame them, because it looked just like that to me, as well. But this girl kept on telling me that her boyfriend was innocent, and that he was gonna be tried and executed if there wasn't some new testimony or evidence claiming otherwise. The case looked hard to crack, but then again, she _did_ have Richmond on her side! So I says to her, "Don't you worry, lil' lady! I'll have this case solved before tomorrow!" (Of course, I said that while it was almost dawn, so I had all day to work)

I then dismissed the girl (not without asking if there were any other clues or interviews I needed to know about) and set about my investigations. What she had to give me was vague at first glance: the father had a definite way of calling his son, a kind of call found only in Harmonia. The son was also thought to be away in Zexen at the time, and it was only through coincidence that he heard his father calling. Then there was the matter of a rat, and some grayish sort of object, probably an animal or a cloth, that the son claimed to have seen at the scene of the crime.

Like I said, it wasn't much to work on, but my hours were short and the day wasn't getting any brighter, but at least it wasn't raining. Sure was chilly, and it stunk a little in that overcrowded town. My payment was going to be worth all this trouble, _if_ I solved this case (is there any doubt??), and besides, I can't stand to see pretty girls crying.

Once I was alone with the body, I began to piece together all the tiny bits and pieces of the evidence. In my line of work, it's oftentimes the tiniest bits of scrappy clues that can turn the tide of a crime. Even something so minor as, say, a cigarette ash, can turn the case around. ……Speaking of which, I found a small puff of ash lying quite close to the body in question…

I instantly collected a sample of the ash and stored it away. I then decided to further my search and look for a butt, and to my joy I discovered the tip of a cigar discarded not too far from the ashes. Upon extremely close examination of the cigar (one must have the eye of an appraiser if one wants to investigate anything), I discovered that it had not been chewed off like most cigars would. No, it was cut--no teeth marks--but by a very blunt edge. I could instantly surmise that whoever had left this cigar here was obviously a smoker, and owned a blunt penknife. Insignificant, you say? Not to me. Minor clues like this help me narrow down the suspects.

But I couldn't very well go and interview every smoker with a weak penknife now, could I? Still, it was a start. I made my way back to the body after collecting the clues and examined it a second time. I noticed, after looking at it very closely, that it was indeed lying face down, so whoever had attacked him had to strike him from behind. From what the girl had told me, the son was _facing_ his father, and could not strike him then. But then again, he also said that he ran back to his father after hearing a scream, and could have attacked him then, or any other time he turned his back.

But then I noticed the precise spot where the fatal wound had struck. The mortal bruise was on the _left_ side of his skull and not the right. Insignificant? Hardly. During my interview with the girl, I had asked which hand her boyfriend used most, and she said that he was right-handed. She even went so far as to say that his left arm was injured from an earlier accident and had to be put in a sling.

The word _Aha!_ quickly comes to mind.

Now, I could already tell that whomever had struck this man was left-handed, and that it was possible that he was a smoker of a certain type of cigar, and had a dull penknife (I say it's a man because I know very few women who smoke that kind of cigar, or who own any kind of penknife, dull or not). In my interview, the girl expressed that her boyfriend was not much of a smoker, but he did carry penknives for those certain rare occasions, but even with this, I could already say that it was not the son.

Now, believe it or not, but I quickly began to be glad that it had rained. South Window was layered with cobblestone and asphalt roads, to my great pity (footprints are a key clue in crimes, and it's much harder to track them down on stone roads), but after the brief shower of rain we had gotten, the tracks were much more defined. I donated my attention to these next, and followed them around for awhile.

Aside from the obvious boots of the cops I found, I also saw the shoes of several other people, many of them pretty close to the body. I discovered prints that led from where I found the cigar ash, and prints that suggested that whoever had killed the man had actually came back for something--possibly the gray material the boyfriend mentioned. These same tracks also had one of the feet more stressed into the pavement that the other, suggesting a limp. The tracks from the cigar to the body (and back again for the material) all belonged to the same man, so my theories were being sewn together real well. I jotted all this down on my pad, noting that the criminal was a left-handed man who smoked, had a limp, and wore what I guessed was a gray scarf, and whom had a dull penknife in his collection.

I knew right then and there that it could not have been the boyfriend, and that the girl was right on the money, but I still had to find out who did this. There was also the matter of a "rat" to consider (the boyfriend said that his father muttered something about a rat before dying), but at first, the cops thought it was just delirium. Ha, but I knew better, almost from the moment I pieced together these clues.

The man's definite style of calling his son was Harmonian in nature. Only they use that certain call; nobody else does. Okay, so this guy was Harmonian. So? Well, if I remember correctly, there was a famous group of highway robbers called the Ballarat Crew a few decades back. Their biggest heist was robbing a convoy of carriages that were transporting gold from the holy kingdom to Highland, and nobody caught them for it, though two of their company had been killed in that heist. If my theory was correct, the old man was really muttering _Ballarat_, but his son only caught the last syllable.

Whoever had killed this man was a former member of the Ballarat Crew--and unless I was mistaken, he knew this dead old man very well. After all, who else could recognize a member of that gang except for another thief? I knew right then that I had my man, and that only his name eluded me. After gathering my clues all together, I decided to go back to the girl for some further investigation. She was wearing some pretty fancy jewelry for somebody who lived in a place like South Window--heck, she didn't even seem to care that her expensive dress was getting soggy in the rain--so I could only assume that her family was pretty well-off. How, you might ask? I think I had a pretty good idea

When I went back to the girl and told her what I found, she darn near hugged me out of joy. I smiled and told her that she never had a thing to worry about, and that Richmond always got his man. But after she read over the clues I had written down, she got really depressed, like she was experiencing mood swings or something. I asked her what was wrong, and she quietly told me (what I had suspected for some time) that the man who matched all the descriptions I had written down was her own father.

Now, I had to wonder why this old geezer wanted to kill that other guy, and my first thought was some blackmail thing concerning his previous occupation. This was partially true, but it was more of a "righteous cause" than anything else. The girl's father came in just then, with his limp and gray scarf and pencil in his left hand, and as quietly and calmly as possible, confessed to everything and spilled the beans for me.

The old man was the father's acquaintance back in their thieving days, so he had known about the heist and everything. But unlike the man who was now dead, this guy wanted to change his ways, so he used the gold he had stolen to amass a fortune and secured his place in South Window--probably a wise idea, since no Harmonian police officer would've bothered to look in a place like this. Anyway, the old man said that his daughter and her boyfriend were really super-close--I'm talking marriage here in a year or so--but he didn't approve of such a union. In fact, the only person really liking the pair was the old dead father (though I suspected that the girl and her boyfriend had something like marriage in mind).

The girl's old man said that he _really_ didn't like this other old guy--I'm talking hatred here--and that he would do just about anything to be rid of him. The old geezer was a real bad influence, and he didn't exactly like the idea of his daughter marrying somebody of the same gene pool. So I said, "Well, I guess I understand that," and then he confessed to sneaking up on the old guy after he was arguing with his son, and smacking him with the cudgel he found on the floor (the son must've dropped it, I guess). The old man screamed, yeah, but this guy must've left his scarf there as he was running. Must've gotten it back when the son wasn't looking.

After he confessed to everything, I made him sign a few papers, with the girl as my witness, and I told him that I'd never let anyone see this unless it was real crucial (like, if the kid really _was_ gonna die). I figured that, since he's about to kick the bucket anyway, I might as well let him die in peace and not have all this trouble on him. Anyway, that was what closed my case. I got paid what I was promised, and the son was released some time later without my intervention. The girl's old man died a few months later, and I guess it all ended happily, since it's quickly becoming a possibility that these two young'uns are gonna get married.

But the rest of their affairs were none of my business. I just took my pay and went back to Radat, and waited with patient anticipation for the next case to challenge me.

****

The End


	19. Heaven and Earth: The Tale of Tessei

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Heaven and Earth: The Tale of Tessei

O Heaven, O Earth,

O Earth of which I call home,

O Earth in which my soul resides,

O Earth, O Earth,

Thy great power lies in the soul that is thy core,

Thy liquid-hot center, burning flames of endless fire,

O Earth, great Earth, provider.

Where shall I go that you are not there?

Where shall I be when your presence is lacking?

Send thy steel up, through thy veins of fire!

Send thy steel up, let me strike with the hammer!

O Earth, grant me flames and fire and steel,

Let me yield an unworthy tool to strike sharp the weapons of war!

Allow me such pleasures as the world has yet to see,

And allow me great honor by forging thy sons,

O Earth!

Thy sons, O Earth, bear thee blood for thou to quench thy thirst,

They strike, as I have struck,

They strike flesh, and make it bleed, and send precious life towards thy mouth,

And may you swallow it and be happy, and spew back a blessing!

Bless me again with thy blessing of blood,

And may the cycle continue, O Earth,

My Chi.

Heaven, great Heaven,

Above, Heaven; above, Heaven,

Make the thunders shake, make the lightning quiver,

Heaven, trembling heaven, shatter the skies,

Make rain fall to soak the ground,

Make lightning fall to blast the unworthy.

Heaven , O boundless Heaven,

Send forth thy sons to aid my spirit,

Send forth noble sons, for my ignoble purpose!

May the thunders grant power unto my hammer,

May I strike,

Bend,

Mold,

Form,

Shape,

Manipulate,

Transform,

This unworthy steel,

Into the design that thou hast preordained,

Into a tool for war, into a blade!

May the blade strike, send the soul skyward,

Collect souls from the dead into thy womb!

Nourish them, feed them, love them, and let them go.

Go back into the world, the world, and the world,

And let them go back into the world, back into men,

And may they live yet again,

So the cycle continues, O Heaven,

My Ten.

O Heaven, O Earth,

O Ten, O Chi,

O Souls of men, O Blood of men,

Return to thy home in Heaven,

Quench the thirsty ground of Earth,

Spew back from the flames, ye blood, and forge the tools again!

Fall down from thunders again, ye souls, and strike while the iron's hot!

Tis' a good sword.

****

The End


	20. Deja Vous: The Tale of Hoi

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Deja Vous: The Tale of Hoi

Greetings, fellow readers and all those who appreciate god literature. Today, we will be hearing the immortal classic, "Deja Vous", a tale of murder, deceit, charm, wit, good humor, and class. But most importantly, this is a tale of heroism, and bravery, and nobility, and honor. No other legend can quite come close to that of Hoi, and no song or sonnet could weave such a brilliant tapestry that could so successfully describe one man's incredible life.

(……Who am I kidding? This is the story of a lying, cheating, bloody THIEF!)

Our story begins with our hero, the down-on-his-luck thief Hoi, walking casually down the streets of Radat. Having very little in the ways of possession, he sought to gain his fortune through less… honest means. He had originally intended to seek out the "assistance" of the nobles from towns further up north than Radat--after all, it seemed the richest people lived not in these stinking pits, but in the civilized groves that were Highland territory.

But, having no means to travel to such distant locales, our good hero decided that this place was better than nothing, and so went about his diabolical scheme. His troublesome occupation granted him a costume of disguise, one that would suit him up as one to whom the people looked at in respect and not disdain. And so, after much clever consideration, the good Hoi donned the outfit of the hero Riou, and awaited his new eager audience to approach him.

(Or, to be blunt, Hoi needed cash and schemed up a way to get it without getting caught: to disguise as Riou, and pass himself off as a hero.)

With his newfound appearance, Hoi chuckled merrily to himself and dreamed up of the many ways he could connive his way into fortune and glory, without ever actually having any in the first place. His first destination was the local Radat tavern, where he would deceive the local yokels into thinking that the great Riou had at last appeared, and was now in their very presence. He would then boast of "his" accomplishments, and could expect to gain food, audience, and perhaps gold for such deeds.

When he entered into the tavern, a flock of patrons instantly "recognized" him, though in fact his present guise looked little like the hero he was imitating. Still, there were those who claimed to know his face (having never seen the hero in person), and since such a magnificent warrior was now in their presence (deceiving them all the way!), food and drink were brought to the esteemed guest. Hoi, having succeeded in tricking these people, began a nonsensical and outright outrageous tale of how he "defeated" General Kiba at Two River.

(Or, to be blunt, his plans worked and the common idiots fell for his scheme like bricks. Things were looking good!)

Indeed, the condition of our hero was a merry one, bright with much happiness and joy. How else could he express such gratitude and relief to these unaware people? That they could be so kind as to help out a poor thief, shrewd and sly and especially cunning in the ways of camouflage! A toast was proposed to each of them--no, two, but two more were given to the false hero. What a day indeed! And to think, all Hoi really needed to do was slip into some shoddy merchandise left behind by some careless wanderer, and he was a marvel!

Of course, he had enough guile to know that even these simpletons would find him out in the future, if not sooner. Therefore, having scored a success on that day, Hoi decided to conclude his so-called war stories, and would therefore dismiss himself from the premises. Having eaten and drank his fill in any case, the young thief's reasoning was proper. Even if he _had_ been the hero he so copied off of, it was time for him to haunt somewhere else, and leave these people to their businesses.

(Or, to be blunt, Hoi was happy but figured that he'd get busted if he didn't leave quickly.)

And so, with a belly full of food and a smile as big as his arm, our beloved hero quietly dismissed himself from the room--but alas and alack, one of the more observant patrons asked to see proof of his claims! To validate his own heroism? To show that he was not, indeed, another false pretender (since Radat seemed to get so many)? To ascertain such truths? Why, Hoi might have been insulted, humiliated, and appalled at such accusations, and were he a smarter man, he would have indeed become incensed. But alas, poor Hoi's intellect only carried him so far, and he made reason with the doubtful man.

With but a simple yank of his sleeve, and a simpler pull of his glove, Hoi expressed to all patrons in that very bar that he was indeed the great hero Riou. After all, was there not the sign of the Bright Shield Rune on his hand? It was indeed the genuine article, drawn by a very good artist with a keen eye for such details. Had Hoi been in a crowd of more naïve persons, he might have gotten away with such a lie, and indeed, it seemed that he almost did. The trouble came when a patron realized that, Yes there was a Rune, but interestingly enough, it was on the wrong hand.

(Or, to be blunt, somebody asked to see the Bright Shield Rune for proof. Hoi had a counterfeit copy, and to make matters worse, it was on his left arm.)

The poor dope was almost lynched on the spot. The crowd gathered there beat him senseless, and forced a hot coal to sing the place where the false Rune had been marked in. Hoi's pain was quite dramatic, what with the beatings and the coal and the sheer hatred of the deceived--yet, for all the pain he experienced that day, young Hoi refused to reform his illegal ways, and set about yet again to find better pickings.

His travels would lead him to Rockaxe, where he had gathered a hundred knights together for a retelling of "his" famous battle with Solon Jhee, and where he would later be discovered by a knight that had just seen the _real_ Riou wandering around the castle with his adopted sister. Needless to say, Hoi was fortunate to get out of that place alive.

Hoi next went to Greenhill to sup and steal, figuring that he could at least succeed a little in this astute locality. And at first, it seemed like his efforts were going to pay off; Hoi found good lodging in the inn, and a welcome supply of food and drink for his mouth to devour. The people began to adore him, and crowded round to hear stories and tales, and how he bravely spirited Lady Teresa away, and when he could be expected to bring her back.

But as usual, our hero messed the situation up. Everything was going rather well for him, until he slipped up and mentioned that he didn't even know who Teresa was. Of course, all the patrons in that inn _knew_ that Lord Riou had carried her off to safety inside his castle, so to claim sudden amnesia was an offense punishable by death. Hoi escaped this mob to lie and steal another day, but received many bruises for his work.

(Or, to be blunt, the poor guy just had no luck anywhere else he went.)

Eventually, Hoi would meander off to another locality, one that bore familiar lands to him. His travels earned him yet another visit to Radat, wherein he assumed that the former patrons who had driven him away previously had long forgotten about the matter. Putting a gamble on his theory, Hoi entered into the tavern again (making sure his Bright Shield Rune was on the _right_ hand) and announced that he, as the "hero", was there. His hopes were strengthened as the gathering of fools paid audience to him once more, and again gathered round him for stories and feasting.

Hoi told them a gigantic whopper, so big and false and untrue that even a child would not believe it--yet these adults, these grown men, were so engaged with his tales that they never realized the deception, nor did they realize anyone else coming into the place. Hoi dribbled on about "his" conquests, "his" achievements, and "his" dream for a future within the state, until he was interrupted yet again by a doubting Thomas.

Confident that no mistake could break the ruse he had formed, Hoi proudly showed them his right arm, where the image of a Bright Shield Rune had been etched in. Again, the gathered patrons admired it greatly--that is, until the thing began to become blurry. Poor Hoi, in his violent tirade of boasting, failed to realize that his palms were sweating at an alarming rate, and the heat they produced was causing this false Rune to, for lack of a better word, "melt".

(Or, to be blunt, Hoi went back to Radat to try again, and he was doing well despite having been there before, but he was once again discovered.)

Now Hoi was in a dilemma. This time, with the citizens of Radat having suffered twice from his deception, it appeared as if there was going to be no way out for him. Hiding or running would do him no good; this crowd wanted to lynch the young man, and to make sure that he never lived to steal again--or perform any other acts, legal or otherwise. Death was approaching him, but a savior still could be found, and at that moment, Hoi found such a rescuer in the guise of the true Lord Riou, whom nobody else recognized.

Having seen more impersonators than they dare imagine, the good people of Radat ganged up on the both of them, and perhaps it was only through the true hero's skill and mercy that either one of them were able to make it out alive. Hoi, feeling bruised but otherwise fine, had to thank his look-alike savior. Never did it occur to him that this had been the true Riou, and that he had been saved by the very man he was impersonating, until it was too late to do anything.

(Or, to be blunt, Riou came to rescue him and the two got beat.)

After that moment, our hero Hoi became indebted to the service of the Stupid Army, and performed at his very best levels whenever he was selected for a mission. More often than not, though, our esteemed hero seemed to _cause_ more trouble than he _prevented_. Eventually he was released from the confines of Stupid Castle, and for awhile he went down the straight and narrow path, but quickly found out the error of his ways, and remained a thief to the end of his days.

I hope you all have enjoyed this remarkable tale of heroism, honesty, valor, virtues, and greatness. Perhaps there are even some among you who have derived a moral of some sorts from this magnificent tale, and if you have, all the more blessings go to you. If not, then I pray that you have at least enjoyed this tale to some measure, and that you shall return in the future to indulge yourselves on more masterpieces.

(Or, to be blunt, you all have just wasted your time on a crappy story. Now go home and eat a sandwich.)

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The End


	21. Mother Nature's Son: The Tale of Badeaux

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Mother Nature's Son: The Tale of Badeaux

I was birthed under heaven and moon and stars, and cried up to the sky as I entered life,

The wail produced, perhaps an echo of tormented things I would feel later in my life.

The birth-givers christened me and blessed me, and then set me free so I could walk.

I was set down on the road to travel, and as I started I could hear the cry of the trees…

The animals inside, suffering, dying, wailing, moaning, calling out my name!

I longed to hear them, to understand their pitches and chords, and longed to understand!

Yet, there was silence.

I grew, like a tree, like a robin, like a fox, a bear, a rabbit, a cloud. I shot forth, matured.

I was born anew, living through Spring and Summer and Autumn and Winter, through all.

Again and again, cycles piled up, birthing myself over and over again, through the years.

I could walk--run--jump--hide. I could think, move, act, on my own will, and hope.

I had been placed on this road to discover something, be it destiny or the end of the path.

I had hoped for a marker or map, for who dares to claim to know their own destiny?

A guide came to me, in the form of a tree, and pointed the way, the way of my path!

I wanted to hear her, and listen to her words; I wanted to know what she knew, and more!

Yet, there was silence.

Another year added, and another still--two more, and I grew to be a man, and grew.

I grew, and I knew--the path set before me would never end, not ever, no never, not once.

I was destined to simply walk, walk down such a path, in search of something, but what?

I was looking for an object that I knew nothing about, in a place I had never been to,

Nor did I know if this path I was on even had an ending or not, or if I was just walking,

Destined to forever not know, not discover, not ascertain, not even to gain assistance.

The animals called out to me, and whistled my name, and wanted for me to hear them,

And oh, how I wanted to understand them, to be clear of mind to listen to their voice!

Yet, there was silence.

But oh, one day there was a marvelous miracle, one that I stumbled upon by accident!

I discovered a cave, and inside this hollow earth, I found one who could open my ears.

There was a man, as ancient as a redwood and as gnarled as an oak, and ashen like beech.

He had a beard that fell like a weeping-willow, and I knew that this was an old sprite.

He bade me come, and tell him my woes, and I said everything on my mind, and more.

A smile he grew, and he knew that my heart was pure, and gave me a priceless gift.

My ears were opened that very moment, and my mind was cleared, and I began to learn.

I thanked the old nymph, and rushed out to listen, to really and truly listen, to the world!

Yet, there was silence.

My ears deceived me not, nor did the wizard perform a horrible trick on my mind.

I had failed, somehow, or perhaps I was lost--no, something more horrible was there!

The trees, screaming, being cut down for houses! The animals, screaming, being skinned!

Chop, chop, there went my friends, my guides! They were lost, never to show me home!

Hack, slash, what a gruesome spectacle, so many innocent animals being desecrated!

Their very fur, their very skin, cut open for man's warmth and profit, cut so needlessly!

I became enraged, but they were too many, and I was but one, and I could only listen.

And so, _I_ began to scream as well. There was not silence in the woods, just my voice.

I would never know.

But ah, now my mind is clear, now my voice rings true, now my path is bright and sure.

I see before me, the horizon and beyond--mountains, a blue sky, clouds, grass, the wind.

I can clearly hear the call of nature--whistling of birds, waving of trees, yipping of dogs.

My ears have been opened to the world around me, and I stand here, listening, hoping,

Wondering if I, as but one, can influence those who are many, simply by my ears?

I am one who is listening to the world; could there be others so open-minded? I hope.

Or else, I shall continue to stand, and be silent, and let my ears talk, and my heart hope.

The silence will not last forever.

****

The End


	22. The Pig and the Prosecutor: The Tale of ...

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The Pig and the Prosecutor: The Tale of Bob

The moon can drive a man wild. Imagine what it can do to something that is not a man.

He was quite mad, you know. Always walking down the hallways, eating something he had carried in from the hunt--the hallways of his house. He'd walk down that path, the beaten and trodden path of old rugged carpet that needed a shampoo. Every time he walked, aimlessly, he would always step over that crack that had gotten into the rug--mysteriously, rather, for the entirety of the floor was covered by sandy-brown carpet, yet one spot eluded the protection, and was bare--with a crack.

He'd step over that many a time as he walked, and ate what had been stupid enough to fall into his clutches. If he had caught nothing, then he would take a bag, wad it up, and add it to his pile, the pile of bags that he had collected over the years. He also had a receipt collection, and a collection of plastic weapons that sometimes came with action figures. He also collected the tabs that came with soda cans, though nobody knew why. He would pace around his collection, walking, and eating, this insane, sick, twisted, sick man.

Yet he was not a man.

Or else he'd go down the stairs, eight that led to his front door, and from there, seven that led to the large downstairs area, which had been covered in a chocolate-colored carpet, and this rug had been even worse than the one colored like sand. It had been so raggedy and old that he had to have it replaced, and of course with a replacement came redecoration. The entire downstairs area was now completely new, and the carpet--white--was now lovely to roll around on, especially with nothing to wear. But he had to wash his hands first, because he did so love to eat.

No man knew his mind, but he himself was not a man--an illusion of a man, perhaps. He carried with him a pole, a brown one, and with it did he defend his honor and himself, or sometimes he would use it to strike his prey. No, he had claws and teeth for that. He would use those to kill his prey, and then, like any civilized gent, he would skin them and clean them and then rip the bodies apart by the bone. The fashion in which he devoured his pray was most _un_civilized--rather barbaric, really. He had to wash up a great deal before he rolled around on his carpet.

He remembered one event in particular when he stole a young boy's fish, and ate it for supper--not the boy, the fish. The gear was left behind for the boy to misuse--poor chap never learned how to fish properly, being the orphan and all. Poor stupid, dumb twit of a boy, fishing for what, worms? He could certainly catch worms. The minnows he hooked were too small to feed a mouse. When he did catch a fish, the werewolf ate it.

At least, that's what the boy claimed. He had grown up hearing tales of the insane werewolf man, and how he would run out and kill pigs and eat them, or steal fish, or trap birds, or that sort of thing. He believed them, naturally, so he came prepared every day whenever he stepped outside. When the boy went to fish, rather poorly if it can be said, he always carried with him the werewolf's bane, silver. The dogs couldn't stand it--not his hound, which he had saved and kept and loved, but the wolf of the night, the creature of madness.

It could also be said that the savage insane creature can choose to be in the image of man at times, for even werewolves must protect themselves by disguise so as to not draw the eyes of true men. They are savage beasts, wild, untamed, and must appear to be docile when roaming around every day. They must not be seen, but must remain hidden, amidst all the other people who are stupid enough to believe in superstition. Can't have him being discovered now, can we? That would most definitely ruin his day now, would it not?

On some other circumstance, he would sometimes go into the forest to see what vegetables and fruits tasted like. He loved pomegranates, but they were so difficult to find in his area, which was definitely not tropical. Werewolves were not born and bred to be raised in the tropics; no, from their fur alone, one can deduce that they prefer the chilly cold, to a point. But this wolf-man loved the pomegranates, and the tropical fruits--but of course, he loved meat even more, especially when it was dripping fresh with the scent of a freshly-caught carcass.

Chew and swallow, and he'd make a mess. His entire body would be covered in a very dark pink liquid, the blood of some of the animals that he had caught. If he was extremely lucky, now--the werewolf--he would sometimes catch and eat and ruin himself on an animal that did not bleed red. He loved it when animals bled different colors. One day, he must make a portrait from the blood of animals. That would be the civilized thing to do, now wouldn't it?

Taking utter precautions not to be seen, especially when hunting or stealing fish from orphaned boys, there was one werewolf in particular that stood out of the rest, but mostly because he was quite mad. There was not a sane bone in his body--no, not anywhere. The very visage of insanity was stamped on his forehead; it ran through his veins and colored his own blood; it was in his hair whenever a comb touched it, which was rare. Madness.

Of course, even he too had to drink from the lake from time to time. He needed water just as the boars and the deer did. Sometimes he ate the boars and deer. That was okay. They were quite delicious, but left a mess that was terribly hard to clean. Can't clean in the lake, that's where you get your water. Must clean elsewhere, maybe in a river. Rivers run fast and smooth, carrying the washed blood away. You'll never see it again, so go, and bathe, but make sure nobody steals your clothes. Rolling on the rug naked is fine, but running home as thus is not, unless you're not a man.

So go and eat, child of the night. When you are a man, it is day, and the sun shines, and you can run around because you have a good disguise on. But when the dark night dawns and there comes out a moon, be it full or in a crescent, you may shed your disguise and come out a werewolf, and do as you please--steal another fish, maybe. Just make sure the people remember it is only a legend.

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The End

Author's note: …Whew. This all came out of _nowhere_. Readers, take note. This is the result of what happens when you don't plan for a story. Everything you have just read, with one very minor exception, has poured out of my thoughts and directly onto the computer, in the matter of only ten or so minutes. Call it stream of consciousness if you will, or if you prefer, insanity. Did I perform better when I had a plan, or did all this rambling mean only nothing? Was this better, or worse than my other stories? That's left up for you to decide. Oh, and if you hear a snarling sound at your door tonight, and you see something out of the ordinary--or if you hear the howling of wolves gone mad by the moon, don't worry. That's no werewolf--it's just Halloween.


	23. History of a Hopeless Rambler: The Tale ...

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History of a Hopeless Rambler: The Tale of Emilia

How did I get myself into this mess?

I really must ask myself that question more often. How did I get to be where I am now?

It all started quite some time ago, as one might expect, in Greenhill, which is where I grew up. As far back as I can remember, I've always wanted to be a person of admiration and integrity. I wanted people to respect me, and to love me, and to need me. I wanted… visitors, people who would stop on by everyday, suitors (I'll admit it), and praises, and peace and comfort. I wanted everything the normal person wants, without the pain of life added in--or at least the pain of politics.

There are people who will say that it's possible to be born with those qualities, but I have to disagree. Respect and love aren't birthrights. You've got to _earn_ these qualities yourself, through discipline and learning, and through experience. So, I lived my life for awhile, and tried to absorb everything I could. My past was a bit of a dark one--oh, now don't give me that look. It really was quite bright, but I was not. I was incredibly stupid when I was a child, so much so that to even think back on it now is an embarrassment. Let's give an example by saying that I often did… "special things" to get attention, and I'll leave it at that.

But, by some means, I was able to slowly crawl out of that annoying little pest of a child. God knows how I did it; the point is that I grew (and grew--I'm quite the tall lady), and matured slowly over time, but I'm a bit ashamed to say that I clung stubbornly to a piece of my childhood as I grew. I was a lazy bum, always wanting the good things yet rarely bothering to attain them. Sure, I worked every once in awhile, and if I put myself up to the task, I could become quite the workhorse. I will admit that I was the type who would _do_ something for somebody if they asked me, or if I felt compelled to do it.

Yes… that's all in the past. My parents were both idiots, you know. They divorced when I was still fairly young (and stupid, yes, I'll say it), so I grew up in a broken and/or resentful home. My father… ha! If I held onto my adolescence, then he had an iron grip on it. Poor dope, he was, though I prayed such characteristics weren't genetic. I do believe that such--I'll say what it is--such idiocy was what propelled me into completely maturing into a sensible adult.

My mother, ha, it's hard to tell which of my parents was worse. I won't even get into _her_, but let's just say there's no resemblance whatsoever, not even in the looks department. I've been told I'm prettier than her and I must agree. I do believe it was through her… "issues" that led me to grow into a patient, understanding sort of woman, whose ear was always open and whose mouth usually closed during another person's speech. God knows I don't want to follow the same mistakes my folks did.

Ah, but my education… You know, my life was plagued with debt, apathy, carelessness, and secret ambition. Of _course_ I had ambition--big dreams, perhaps, but did I fail to mention what I wanted in life? No? Well then, there you go! Or, at least, I wanted to make an impact. I wanted…… oh, to be recognized, and sought after, and needed. I needed to be needed, if you catch the drift. Good. It's hard to explain. Anyway, where was I? You wouldn't know by looking at me, but I'm a terrible rambler. Must come from my "creative" side…

I did want to work, honestly I did. No, really! Yes, sure, I did stay at home from time to time, doing what I could… chores, mostly. I really did work at home, _when_ there was work to be done. Can't blame me for being lazy when there's nothing to do, eh?! Yes, well, as "hard" as I worked, I didn't have good luck finding a place that would pay me for my services. I'm… just… _dreadful_ around other people. Ha, haha… My own childhood was filled with ignorance, yet when I socialize with other people, I cannot help but to be brought to attention by their… eh, base minds. Dreadful.

So, where was I to work? Nowhere temporary, oh God, no! That would just waste away, and I'd be back at home, reading again. Oh, but I did love to read. It's always fun to escape such banalities that "real" life has to offer, and dive in elsewhere where things are much more fantastic. I'm especially a fan of things much more fanciful than real life. The, ah, stranger it is, the better, I should say. Who needs "reality" when there are worlds out there so fantastic that only in dreams may their majesties be equaled!!

I'm boring you.

I told you, I get off track sometimes. Please, though, bear with me. I don't usually get the chance to hold an _intelligent_ conversation. It seems… and I must sigh… but it seems as if life is filled with the moronic sort. Oh, they're mostly _good_ people, they're just not very bright. I don't have a high faith in humanity, but there are times when I believe them to be generally good. No, no, I'm not optimistic at all. I'm actually quite the pessimist. Always good to look at things in a bad light. It makes everything else, outside of such a light, not so bad after all. Or whatever.

Haha, there I go, talking my mouth off again, and going off track. Where _was_ I? Oh yes, my job. Yes, I was in need of money during a certain period of life, and an education. I wanted one badly--ha, can you imagine a person actually _missing_ the opportunity to do homework? I was so bloody bored that I _wanted_ to do homework. Well, to school, then, but how was I to pay for it all? I didn't have any money--well, not any to boast of--and I needed to write a few letters to the nearest college. Oh, I didn't worry about my own smarts. When I'm passionate enough about something, I can always excel.

Well, one very average day, I decided to get off my lazy bum and do something about my situation. Having a passion about reading, I could also write a rather good letter, and mailed it off post haste so I could be well prepared for the next semester at college (which was conveniently in Greenhill). I also got off that very same lazy bum a few seconds after writing such a letter (and doing chores around the house), and went for a walk around town to find a place that needed people to work. Being almost penniless, I decided… "Why not?", and applied.

AH, I remember now! _That's_ how I got myself into this precarious position!

The blasted place I went to was the bloody _library_! Oh, don't get me wrong, I did love to read, and I loved books, and I was quite organized (really), and I wasn't going to be picky about who paid me. I just… didn't seem to be the librarian type at first (if you can even believe it). Yes, that's right, I never would have been able to see myself in that sort of situation, but… there I was, working in a library, and let me cut a long story short by saying that this is where I stayed until the present time.

Well, rather than ending my story there, I'll go on a bit and wrap up a few loose ends. I took a course in Literature at college, since that was one of my passions, and another class that dealt with technology, which I did seem to be good at. Anyway, with my job giving me support, I did eventually pay off those nasty bills that had been accumulating, and found myself a small little house to live in. My work at the library continued, so I guess you could say that many of my goals were reached. And all for the want of an after-school job! Ha! If anybody knew how long I've really been working here--ahem, nine years--they'd be quite amazed!

Okay, checklist. Admiration and integrity… well, there are always those silly admirers I have, but I wish more of them were men. Pity I myself am not a man; otherwise, I'd pursue those admirers and ask them out for a, eh, a date. Well, maybe a cup of tea or coffee will suffice with the crowd that I have now, but the point is, it's done. I wanted people to respect me, which I did get, and to need me, which I got. I got my visitors and the people who would stop on by everyday, and from time to time I would be praised for my work, and of course I had the peace and comfort of one who works in a place she enjoys.

Hahaha… but as for suitors and love, this is a tale all on its own, that has (sadly) yet to be written. Haha… twenty-nine years young and still single. People tell me that I'm very beautiful, and classy, and sophisticated (thanks to years of kicking my own butt into gear and putting my nose to the grindstone), but it amazes me that there are those people who can fall in love upon first sight and be married the next year, and they are only seventeen or so years old.

But I don't suppose I can do anything about it, except wonder and wait and wish. Thirty years is not old. According to my beliefs, I won't be classified as old until I'm 65. I plan on being young and spry and moderately attractive for years to come--grunt, and moderately single to boot. Ah, haha, but I am so desirable--blech, that's what I hear all the time. Shove it up your skirt and check something out of the library. I need a paycheck worse than I need my next cup of coffee.

Oh, how _did_ I get myself into this mess?

I really must ask myself that question every so often.

****

The End

Closing comments: Well, what can I say? It's been a fun twenty-three chapters, but this is where the Suiko-stories end. Now, for my next trick, I'm going to write my third and final Fifteen Minutes saga, which will focus on two or more characters from either Suikoden game. Expect this one to be epic in proportions, since it'll show every character that I feel like I've forgotten to this point. Why have two or more? Well, there are some characters whose lives seem to intertwine with another's, such as Alen and Grenseal, the Six Imperial Generals, Anji's crew, the Tricksters, etc., and I can't put just one character up for such entries. I thank everybody for their patronage and for their audience, but most importantly, for their patience. Now, do me a favor, and go write about your favorite unknown character.


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